Converge
by SkittlezLvr79
Summary: When you think you've got everything figured out, life throws you some curveballs. No Slash. Don't like the pairing, don't read it.{On Hiatus}
1. Chapter 1

**Summary: When you think you've got everything figured out, life throws you some curveballs. No Slash. Don't like the pairing, don't read it.**

 **Author's Note: It's been a long, long time since I've written anything, but especially anything in this genre. These two drew my interest. Yes, I know their real names and who they're involved with but I'm not using any of that information. Updates will be slow most likely because of work and the fact that I'm rusty at writing.**

 **Disclaimer: No infringement is intended and no profit is being made off this work of fiction. All person's belong to themselves and their onscreen persona's belong to Vince McMahon and the WWE. I do not own any of the comic characters mentioned in this fic or Wizard World.**

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Seth Rollins sighed, sitting back against the lockers. "Can I just say again how much it sucks that I'm not doing the Wizard World event in Vegas this year but you two are? All year long, I looked forward to this and then it was snatched away from me…"

"Nope, the last four hundred times you said it already conveyed that message." Roman Reigns smirked at his former team mate's obvious annoyance at being interrupted mid diatribe. "Just consider it a perk of betraying your brothers and having the WWE universe hating your ass. The Q&A session with you would probably get ugly."

"Ha ha funny," Seth rolled his eyes, "almost as funny as when Dean tries to compare himself to Batman."

"What's so funny about it?" Dean Ambrose's question was poised sarcastically. "If Ro's Superman then that would make me Batman."

"I just don't think it's an accurate depiction."

"Why not? There's a lot we share in common. Batman's dark and twisted due to his fucked up childhood. Sound familiar?" A wink followed, "He's also a chick magnet and we all know that when it comes to pulling chicks, I've got no issues in that department."

"Following that line of logic, who am I supposed to be then?"

One side of Dean's mouth quirked up, "Lex Luthor."

"I'm not a villain!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We've heard it all before. You just play one on TV."

"You are so not Batman! He would never do something like this." A hand raked through dark brown hair still marred with pieces of blonde, scowl twisting his lips. "I hate it but I have to agree with Cena on this. If you're any comic book character then you're the Joker! He was all about the mental abuse."

A lazy shrug followed that announcement, "Then following your logic I guess you'd be Two Face since he was all about the betrayal."

"Take that back!" Seth's hand slammed down on the table, outrage coloring his tone at what he felt was an unflattering comparison. "If it wasn't scripted, I would never stab everyone I cared about in the back!"

A loud rumbling chuckle escaped the big samoan's mouth and he shook his head because he knew he had to try to stop this ridiculous argument. "Seth, relax, you take your comic book comparisons too seriously."

"Yeah man," Blue eyes rolled, "Plus we all know that the villain's have more fun. They get the hotter chicks too."

Seth's face once again reflected his disbelief at that statement. "That's not true! Both Lois Lane and Vicky Vale were hot."

"Nah, they were the typical cute girl next door types which while it has certain appeal at first gets really fucking boring after a while."

"No way." The proclamation was firm. "Every guy fantasizes about the sweet girl next door."

"Seth's got a point Dean." Roman admitted grudgingly. "It's any red blooded man's dream come true to land one. Not many guys want a chick who they know can't be tamed."

"Why would you want to tame a bad girl? The appeal is that they're bad." Dean stated heatedly with a waggle of his eyebrows. "Cat-Woman. Poison Ivy. Harley Quinn. Tell me that's not some serious fantasy material right there." A full fledged smirk twisted his lips when no denial was forthcoming. "I rest my case."

"Ok I'll admit that Catwoman and Poison Ivy are hot but hot does not negate the evil intentions. Harley Quinn is a different case. She's certifiably, homicidally insane." Seth said hesitantly, seriously pondering his friend's logic. "And no guy, superhero or villain is safe from their wrath."

Leaning back in his chair, Dean propped his feet up on the bench. "You say that like it's a bad thing. The crazy chicks are the best between the sheets. No inhibitions at all."

"But what do you do after? Unless you want to sleep with one eye open and watch your back all night, she can't stay over. If you kick out the crazy chick, she's probably going to try to set you up or kill you."

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose, resigning himself to the fact that his companions were disturbingly discussing the pro's and cons of sleeping with comic book villainesses. Unfortunately he knew from experience that this conversation could go on for hours unless he could find a way to change the subject back to the original one. "It does suck that you won't be at the Wizard World event this year. Being the first one they're doing in Las Vegas in after a few years hiatus pretty much guarantees it's going to be insane."

"That makes it even worse!" Seth's eyes flashed, "I'm missing out on being apart of the new history! But you two get to be there and so doesn't Paige. It's just not fair. I've read way more comics than the three of you combined ever have!"

Annoyed blue eyes turned toward the burly Samoan. "Why the hell would you bring it up again? I had him distracted."

"The talk of nailing crazy villainesses troubled me..."

An all too well known smirk flickered across the former United States champion's face and once again those eyebrows waggled lasciviously. "Hey, it could become a reality tomorrow night."

Roman shuddered, "Now that I know what you're shooting for, I'm so glad that I chose to stay at a hotel and not crash at your place."

"We're still gonna hit up some spots after the convention though right?" Dean's question was volleyed with a mischievous grin. "Cause I'd be a pretty shitty friend if I let you leave without doing Vegas like it deserves to be done."

"Hell yeah man." He agreed easily. "We've got to drag Paige along with us. I don't think she's ever really done Vegas the right way since the last time we were there it was just a quick pit stop for RAW."

"That's cool."

"It's not fair." Seth whined, dropping his head into his hands. "While you three get to go have fun, I'll be working and having stuff thrown at me."

The door to the locker room opened and a stage hand informed them that Dean was needed to tape an interview.

"Yeah, sucks to be you." Dean reached over and clapped his friend on the shoulder as he stood up to depart. "No worries man. I'll party for the both of us."

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Paige sat slumped on the bench in the women's locker room, oblivious to all the chatter going on around her. Before, she'd be apart of the commotion. Talking, joking and laughing with her fellow diva's. Pale, black nailed fingers absently drummed against the wooden surface beneath her body as she recalled the reason for her dark mood the past week.

Her boyfriend, or rather ex-boyfriend now, Corey Graves.

He always complained that since her promotion to the main roster that they barely saw each other. She knew that he was right. After finishing up the house show on Saturday she had decided to surprise him by coming home early. So instead of leaving Sunday morning like she planned she changed her flight and grabbed the six o'clock plane to Orlando instead. When she got to his house at ten-thirty and let herself in with the key he had given her, she wasn't expecting to find him screwing some ring rat on his couch.

The random blonde quickly grabbed her clothes and fled. Wise move on her part because the shock had worn off and anger had taken it's place. A confrontation ensued. Corey blamed her for his cheating, saying that she wasn't there for him emotionally or physically. That ever since he had to retire from in-ring competition that she treated him like he was beneath her.

It was all bullshit though and she knew it. Growing up in the business, she'd heard about and saw the exact scenario played out so many times. It was always easier for the person who did wrong to blame the person they wronged rather than take responsibility for what they did. The anger that had been building inside her throughout his speech couldn't be controlled any longer. She slapped him across the face and told him to go to hell.

Dropping his key on the floor, she turned and stormed out of his apartment. She went home and hid beneath her covers. Ignoring her phone and watching horror movies, she stayed in her bed until her flight on Monday morning. But she still felt the weight of the betrayal all week, shadowing her every step. She felt like even though she wasn't responsible for the fact that he was an ass who couldn't keep it in his pants, she should have been astute enough to figure it out.

Now as she looked back at their relationship she was sure that she missed several warning signs. In hindsight, they were glaring ones. Lately, their calls while she was on the road were less frequent. When they did talk, he was always a bit aloof and distant. He never called her by name during them, in fact he made sure to keep them impersonal.

That distance had continued when they were together in person too. Conversations had been stilted. Corey had barely even kissed her in the last month. Their sex life had become passionless and infrequent. He stopped saying that he'd miss her when she left and didn't drive her to the airport anymore.

She should have confronted him weeks ago.

But the relationship was comfortable and she didn't want to be alone…

Hanging her head, she bit back the urge to scream. She wasn't supposed to be that girl. Wasn't raised to be anything but a strong, independent woman who didn't need a man beside to make her feel complete. That stereotype of a woman made her sick and she'd cut many a promo bashing the weak willed chicks who believed in that archaic notion. Yet here she was, feeling sorry for herself over a loser who screwed her over.

She needed to stop thinking about this and get into work mindset. There was a match with Brie and Nikki to get through tonight. That meant she had to go talk strategy with them and Becky. Then tomorrow instead of the house show in Minnesota, it was off to Las Vegas Wizard World for a full day of autograph signing and a joint Q&A session. She'd have to bring her A-game to the appearance because she knew that Roman and Dean would be bringing theirs and didn't want to disappoint the fans.

Getting to her feet, she squared her shoulders and was surprised to find that she was the only person left in the locker room. Must be later than she thought. The few diva's that were on this trip had probably headed to hair and make-up already. The last day of a house show was always filled with impatience. Mostly everyone wanted to get it over with so they could enjoy a day off.

She could do this. All she had to do was focus on work. Fall back into her usual house show routine. No better way to start than by grabbing a something to eat from craft services. When she entered the makeshift catering area, she was surprised when everyone who had been chatting animatedly moments before went silent at her arrival. The feeling turned to dread when most people hastily averted their eyes.

Becky came up to her, a plastic smile on her face, "There you are! I wanted to see if you wanted to go out and get some real food…"

"What is it?" She was in no mood to be coddled. "Just tell me."

"It's Corey,"

She braced herself, "What about him?"

"Bayley called me to tell me that she saw him with some girl last night." Becky winced before delivering the next part. "A girl that he ended up leaving the bar with."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry."

Paige put her game face on and forced a scoff, "Don't be. It's not my business who he left the bar with since we broke up last Saturday."

"You did?" Confusion was evident in the question.

"Yep so he's free to do whatever or whomever he pleases." She was proud that her voice remained detached and steady even though she didn't feel that way. "Now can I get some food, because we still have to talk through the match tonight."

"Of course." Becky stepped aside, eyeing her friend carefully.

She could everyone staring at her as clearly as she could hear the hushed voices as she looked over the spread of food. It was uncomfortable to know that everyone knew about her break-up and were gossiping about it. Part of her wanted to spin around and tell them all to mind their own fucking business. But to do that would only lead to more gossip. So she ignored that impulse.

Grabbing a sandwich, she waved to Becky and headed of the catering area. She kept her head down and walked quickly, not wanting to see the pity on people's faces or hear the consoling words. That defensive maneuver was directly to blame for her roughly colliding with someone. She would have ended up a heap on the floor if the person hadn't grabbed her upper arms and steadied her.

"Whoa there crumpet, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Dean smirked down at her, his blue eyes twinkling beneath the strands of messy hair that flopped into them as he released her.

"Sorry, wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's cool. No blood, no foul." He snapped his fingers, "Oh yeah, you got plans for after Wizard World?"

"Uh, I was just going to see if I could catch a flight home. Why?"

"Damn that sounds fucking boring." He rolled his eyes, "Forget those plans. You're staying in Vegas and coming out with Ro and me."

Paige stared at him in disbelief. Was she imagining this or did he really just tell her what she was going to do? "Sounds fun but I really wasn't planning to stay and didn't book a hotel room."

"Don't sweat it, you can crash at my place." He waved a hand in dismissal.

Her brown eyes widened as her disbelief turned to outright shock. She'd known Dean and Roman since the FCW/NXT days. They'd all hung out a few times with others but they had never been close. And they really hadn't hung out at all since she'd been promoted to the main roster. So it was odd that he was inviting her out with them and even weirder that the notoriously private Dean Ambrose was inviting someone who was basically an acquaintance to spend the night at his place. Other than Seth and Roman, she didn't think anyone had ever been there.

"Um-"

"Listen, we're not taking no for an answer. So it's settled." He smirked and patted her on the arm. "See ya later kid."


	2. Chapter 2

Paige left the arena as soon as she was done with the match. Usually she'd hang around, sign autographs for the fans lingering outside on her way out. But today she lacked the energy to do it. Once she got back to the hotel, she changed into pajama's and picked out a crappy horror movie to drown her troubles in.

It beat sitting there wondering why this happened. Questioning whether or not there was something wrong with her? Wasn't she pretty or sexy enough? Did her independence drive away someone else? Had she inadvertently fallen back on old habits of treating a guy like shit or just taking him for granted?

The movie was easy enough to follow. Light on plot, heavy on gore. But it hadn't completely gotten her mind off her broken relationship with Corey. Selecting another b-movie from the 80's, she happily lost herself in the distraction.

There was something so cathartic about watching a monster eat people. She needed this time to clear her head before her early morning flight to Vegas. Wizard World was a huge appearance opportunity. The WWE only sent their most popular stars to the big town events. She could not afford to screw up her career by going and being less than the Paige people saw on television.

She would be damned if she allowed the career she worked so hard to build tank because her personal life did. The microwave dinged and she reluctantly extracted herself from the bed to grab her popcorn. She plopped back onto the less then comfortable mattress and tore into the bag, shoving a handful of the hot corn into her mouth just as the mutant on the TV devoured the slutty blond cheerleader that had pissed her off to no end ever since she started watching the movie.

The pounding at her door surprised her and she jumped in response. "Oh bloody hell!"

Her popcorn bag that had been perched on her lap went flying and the delicious kernels littered the floor. Most of the others had departed straight from the arena, heading home for their day off so it couldn't be them. The knocking grew more intense and she groaned, getting to her feet. It was probably maid service bringing her some more towels or wanting to clean the room.

Pulling open the door, she was ready to level the unsuspecting housekeeper with a growled go away. But the words choked off in her throat as she stared at the two men on the other side of the doorway. Embarrassment coursed through her at being caught in her pj's, hair thrown up in a messy ponytail and no makeup on in front of them. Shifting, she tried to hide her face before they could make out the blush staining her cheeks. "What brings you guys here?"

"I noticed Becky heading out with her bags a while ago and figured since you two had traveled together that you didn't have a car." Roman informed her with a smile. "We wanted to see if you needed a ride to the airport in the morning."

A loud scream emanated from the television, catching the guys attention. The big somoan arched an eyebrow, one side of his mouth drawing up in amusement. "Horror movie fan huh?"

"Yeah, guilty pleasure."

"Cool," Dean brushed past her and flopped down on her bed, retrieving the bag of popcorn from the floor. He reached into the nearly empty bag and threw some of the remaining corn in his mouth as he made himself comfortable. "Alright! I love this movie."

Her mouth opened and closed several times but no words were forthcoming.

"Sorry, don't mind him." Roman chuckled slightly, used to his friend's antics. "So that ride…"

"Uh," She turned her attention away from the man that had hijacked her popcorn, "I was just going to catch a taxi."

"Screw it, you're taking the ride." Dean called out, eyes riveted to the action on the screen, contently munching on the popcorn. "It's a slow moving slimy looking mutant! Run you fucking moron!"

She huffed in irritation, eyes narrowing as she glared at him. "Does he always tell people what they're going to do?"

"Part of my charm." Dean called back unfazed, "Oh yeah, poke it. That'll work. You deserve to die you idiot!"

Roman couldn't contain his laughter, "So you want to meet up at the diner across the street about nine-thirty?"

"Eat them all!" Dean yelled, throwing the last handful of popcorn at the screen.

Paige closed her eyes, trying to reign in her temper. "Yeah, sure, sounds bloody perfect."

"Ok," Roman shook his head, "You coming man?"

"Nah, I'm gonna hang here until the movie's over." Dean replied lazily, eyes still glued to the television as he settled back against the pillows. "It's just starting to get to the good part."

Her head whipped to face him, eyes bugging out of their sockets. Bizarre man who's driving her bloody insane says what? No, she must have heard him wrong or it was a joke. There was no way in hell he had just invited himself to crash…

"Got anymore popcorn?"

Her teeth gnashed together. Ok, so not a joke. Maybe more like a bad dream…

"Uh, you sure?" Roman ventured cautiously, his eyes drifting from Paige to Dean and back. She looked completely blindsided by his friend's plan. "Cause you could always watch it back in the room."

"You complain too much about me yelling at the TV." Blue eyes briefly left the screen and narrowed on his friend. "Especially when you're on the phone and you're always on the damn phone."

The burly Samoan shook his head as his own exasperation at his friend leaked through. He heaved a tired sigh and attempted to reason with him, "You could always not yell. It's not like they can hear you."

"That's crazy talk." Dean's tone was dismissive, his attention back on the movie. "Oh yeah, be dumb. It can't get you if you hide in the fucking shower!"

Roman, knowing that he wouldn't win this battle turned his attention back to her, his expression apologetic. "Do you mind if he watches the movie?"

Did she mind? Yes, she had plans of wallowing alone. But unfortunately, it didn't seem like that mattered much to the former United States champ. He was looking pretty comfortable and obviously had no plans of leaving until this ridiculous movie was over. She doubted voicing her reluctance for company would move him in the least. He'd probably just tell her that he was staying and to deal with it.

"No, I don't mind." She forced herself to say.

"So you gonna make more popcorn or what?"

Roman snickered, turning to go. "Ok, good luck and see ya in the morning."

She closed the door, leaning her forehead against it. Yeah, she had a feeling she'd need a lot of luck to get through this without either murdering her unwanted movie companion or jumping out of her third floor window to escape.

"You know you're missing the best part." He told her, his tone lilting with a smirk. "The geniuses are planning to try to trap the thing in the town square. I won't spoil it for you but it involves fire and a massive death toll."

"Sounds lovely." She muttered sarcastically, pulling herself away from the door.

"The sequel's even better."

Oh no. "Sequel?"

"Yep, saw it on the guide and selected it. It's going to come on right after this. That's why we need more popcorn." He frowned, "And beer, a lot of beer."

Apparently Dean was planning on making this a movie marathon. Maybe she could derail those plans. "I don't have any beer…"

"That's fixable." He grabbed the phone on the nightstand, his finger stabbing a little more viciously at the keypad than need be. "Hey we want a case of beer and a bottle of Jack Daniels."

Great, she'd forgotten about room service. Even if they didn't have his requested items, they'd get them for him because the room was registered to a WWE performer. She should have disconnected the damn phone. Now she was going to have to suffer through a drunken unwanted companion. Unless…"You know we have an early flight in the morning and a long day ahead. Might not want to get too much."

"Yeah, that's why I only got a case and a bottle." He nodded as he hung up the phone, "I figure we'll go big tomorrow night."

It was official. This had to be some twisted nightmare. Subtly she pinched her arm, hoping that she'd wake up. But the only thing that accomplished was a sharp pain and an inevitable bruise on her pale skin by the morning.

"I'm going to make popcorn." She used that task as a distraction, busying herself by making two bags of it and ignoring the knock at the door that was sure to be Dean's delivery.

"Took them long enough," He grumbled and answered the door, watching with a scowl as the room service attendant tentatively placed a twelve pack and a pint of Jack Daniels on small counter that housed the microwave. "Where's the rest of it?"

The room service attendant swallowed, "Sorry sir but we don't usually get alcohol orders like that so this is all we had available."

"What about the bar?"

"The bar leases space in the hotel, we don't own it."

"That's pathetic." He sneered and handed the kid a tip. "Now scram."

"Have a good night sir, ma'am." The kid scrambled quickly out of the room.

Dean shook his head as he closed the door and ripped into the twelve pack. He extracted two beers and handed her one, which she tentatively accepted. "Got some shot glasses?"

"No, can't say I do."

"We'll just have to drink it out of the bottle then." He grabbed the bottle of Jack, the box of beers and looked at her over his shoulder, "Bring the popcorn."

She grabbed the popcorn and followed behind him. Once again he threw himself down on the bed, completely comfortable and taking up the majority of it. Taking a big gulp of her beer, she resigned herself to the fact that she was stuck with the floor. Hopefully the rug would make it slightly more comfortable. But once she sat down, she realized that hope had been in vain.

The rug was thin and didn't feel like it had any padding beneath it. Definitely wouldn't be the most comfortable seat to have for the duration of the movie. Needing a distraction, her eyes drifted up to her companion. "So, what's the whiskey for?"

"Every time one of the morons in the movie do something stupid, we're gonna take a shot." He smirked, looking pretty pleased with his plan.

"Ah," She eyed the pint of Jack skeptically. "I got a feeling that's going to be gone quickly. The people in a sequel are always dumber."

"I think it's a rule." A long swallow of beer followed, "Can't be comfortable down there."

Surprised that he noticed, a chuckle escaped her as she took a drink of her own beer. "For what they charge, you'd think they'd at least include a chair in the room."

"So why are you sitting there when you could sit up here?" His eyes met hers and a full, dimple baring grin slowly curved his lips, "Scared that I bite?"

His reputation as a flirt was well known amongst his co-workers and the wrestling universe. In fact it was legendary, sparking numerous memes on the internet. Several disgusting nicknames also. What most of those people didn't know was that it was rarely a serious thing.

Just Dean being Dean.

Wanting to throw him off his game and also regain a little of the confidence her break up had zapped from her, Paige gave him her most seductive look. Eyes peering at him through her lashes, tongue subtly toying with her lip piercing. "Aren't you afraid that I do?"

His grin turned wolfish as his leaned down, his mouth hovering close to her ear. "I think I can handle it."

She froze, swallowing thickly. Her confidence took another hit. Whenever she had pulled that tactic on a guy before, he'd melted. Stuttered. Blushed. Some even went speechless.

So either he was immune to her charms or she really wasn't as good at it as she'd been led to believe. To clear her very dry throat and give herself something to do, she drained the rest of her beer in one long gulp. Her hand went to the bags of popcorn that were sitting behind her and thrust one in his direction. "The popcorn you wanted so badly."

"Thanks."

The laughter was evident in his voice and the movie started on the screen. Bastard. He knew he had the upper hand. She could hear the paper of the bag being ripped into and smell the buttery scent in the air. Maybe she'd get lucky and he'd get so into the movie that he'd forget she was there.

But that obviously wasn't going to happen. Because a fresh, opened beer was set beside her and she could smell his cologne as he leaned down again. "Figured you could use that."

His voice was rough but smooth. Gravelly, low and deep in her ear. There was the barest hint of amusement coloring it. He obviously liked that that he could fluster her and reveled in it. That didn't surprise her though. Something told her that a lot of what he allowed people see of him was done with the intent to baffle them.

Shaking off her musing, she focused on the television. The music and credits were ominous, done in a blood red, dripping font and the opening shot consisted of a dark forest. There was an old, large car parked in the thicket of trees that was hidden from sight. You couldn't see through the windows, fog covering them almost completely. But with the convenient "moon" lighting you could make out two silhouettes of people, very close together in what had to be the back seat.

The shot shifted and went inside the vehicle. A heated lip-lock and groping hands were focused on. Ugh, wasn't this just perfect. Opening the movie with the gratuitous sex scene. Vaguely she heard the bottle of jack being opened.

The liquid sloshed tellingly as he obviously took a drink before it entered her field of vision. "Teenagers making out in a car, in the middle of woods, late at night. Stupid decision number 1."

A slight scowl twisted her lips but she brought the bottle to her lips and took a small shot of the potent liquid. She was aware that he was watching her and raised an eyebrow as she finally meets his gaze. "What?"

"You call that a shot?"

"I call it conserving our resources." She handed him back the bottle and took a sip of her beer. "This has only just begun."


	3. Chapter 3

Paige groaned as sleep fled her and was replaced by a persistent pounding that sliced through her. Lifting her head, she closed her eyes against the bright glare of the television, which had been left on. She cringed as the hammering continued and dropped back onto the pillow face first. That infernal banging would not go away. The mattress moved, dipping unexpectedly then springing back up, making her stomach lurch unpleasantly.

"I got it." A voice informed her gruffly.

Her eyes flew open and she sat up, ignoring the damned light. She was met with the sight of a shirtless Dean walking over to the door. Trying to burrow further beneath the covers, she felt the humiliation wash over her. Whoever was on the other side of that door was going to assume the worst.

"Uh, hey man. What's up?" Dean's voice had it's usual lazy ring to it.

"What's up?" Roman repeatedly slowly, "Well let me see. I wake up when the phone won't stop ringing. It's the four-thirty am wake up call you apparently requested for some damn reason. I look over and see that your bed hasn't been slept in at all. So naturally, I'm thinking something bad happened…"

"When has anything bad ever happened?"

The burly Samoan's scoff is loud. "Do you really want me to answer that? It's a long list."

Laughter, "Yeah, good times, but you knew where I was this time."

"No, I didn't. You said you were going to watch the rest of the movie. I didn't know that meant you'd still be here." Roman's tone was bordering on exasperation. "Which raises the question of why you're still here and why the hell you smell like a bar room at the end of the night?"

"Turns out the movie had two sequels to it. I could see why they needed the first sequel but the second not so much." Bewilderment colored the eccentric man's tone. "So we watched the first sequel. But we ran out of alcohol so we went on the hunt for a liquor store…"

Paige pushed the covers down slightly, wanting to hear this better because that's where things started getting hazy for her. Sometime between her third beer and fifth shot of whiskey the drunken movie marathon had started being more fun than she originally thought it would be. And it definitely helped her forget her issues, along with everything else.

"By the way, if Seth calls and asks you if you know why he's getting some weird phone calls just say no." Dean was chuckling in earnest now, "So anyway, after we find the liquor store and got what we wanted, we were gonna leave but people knew who we were. We signed some autographs, had a dance off..."

Roman couldn't contain his laughter, "I can just imagine the pictures and video that are on the net right now."

She clutched her head in misery. Ugh, she could not check her phone at all today. Odds were that she had ton of messages between the tags on Twitter and messages from friends. Knowing how she danced when she was drunk, she really didn't need to be bombarded with video of her doing the worst whip known to man. In her current condition, she did not think she could stomach that.

"It was epic man."

"Ok, so that still doesn't explain why you stayed here." Roman said slowly.

Dean chuckled, "We drank, a lot. Must have passed out sometime during the second sequel."

Relief flooded through her. She was fine with the worst thing she had done being a drunken dance off and drinking way too much.

"That's all?"

"Um…yeah."

There was a weighted sigh, "The pause worries me."

"Well there's probably gonna be a big extra charge on our room bill for the broken window cause I'm sure the security camera's caught me"

She sat up fully at that, eyes wide as she stared at the guys lost in their own conversation. Oh this was just perfect. Nothing beat starting your day by being arrested for being a drunk fool.

"Broken window?" Roman's face blanched, "How did you break a window?"

"There was a door off the stairwell, we went out of…"

The long haired man looked horrified. "Fuck, you guys went through a glass door?"

"No, we used that exit when we went to the liquor store. It must have locked behind us. So we couldn't get in when we got back."

"Ok, so how did it get broken?"

Dean frowned, looking at his friend like he was stupid. "I put my hand though it."

"Why?"

"I told you man, it was locked."

"The idea of walking around to the main door never crossed your mind?"

"Nope."

The darker haired man pinched the bridge of his nose. "So should I be taking you to the hospital to get your hand looked at or calling a lawyer cause you're probably going to get arrested."

"My hand's fine, used my shirt to cover it." A sad look passed over his face. "Ruined it though which sucks cause that was one of my favorite shirts."

Roman groaned, "Ok man, we need to get the hell out of here. Like right now. Because once people start waking up, the cops will be paying us a visit."

"Fine, I'll go grab our bags." Dean huffed, as he pulled on his sneakers. "But I think you're overreacting."

"Trust me, I'm not."

"Fine, fine, fine." The former United States champion grumbled, heading out of the room.

Paige got out of bed, ignoring the spinning of the room and the flip-flopping of her stomach. This was not how she wanted her morning to start but she was not going to stick around and watch it get worse. "I'm packed already."

Roman's eyebrow arched, "You don't look too good."

"I don't know if it's from the alcohol or from hearing that wonderful tale of our drunken adventure." She grimaced, "When this gets out and we both know that it will, I expect a long meeting with Paul and jobbing to Eva Marie to be in my future."

He laughed at that, "I take it you're not impressed with her so called skill development."

"Not at all."

"So you ready for tonight?"

Her stomach lurched at the question and she slipped into sneakers. "As long as I sleep on the way to the airport and I eat something terrifically greasy, I'll be ready to hang with the big boys."

"So," he started but cut off, looking uncomfortable.

"What?"

"Heard about what happened between Corey and you. Not just the standard line you gave everyone." Roman said sympathetically. "You doing ok?"

She made a face, "I'll be fine."

The peals of a car alarm came through her window, which faced the parking lot. The Samoan heaved a sigh. "I'm going to kill him if he broke into the car again."

"Why would he break into the car?"

"Because it's Dean." He looked down at her and gave her a timid smile, "He does some crazy things, especially when he's drank way too much. Though, he has gotten better about it and doesn't do anything too insane anymore. But we need to get out of here before he decides to prove me wrong and hotwire the car to get the alarm to stop or someone sees the broken window."

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Things had been a little awkward since they piled into the rental and fled the hotel. Silent but a little tension lingering in the air. She had chosen to ignore it and laid down in the backseat to catch a nap on the way to the airport. But sleep never materialized. So she just kept her eyes closed and listened to the whatever songs the guys decided on.

The good thing that about having to flee the hotel in the early hours was that it was very easy to go through the airports security screening. It was the quickest that she'd ever been through. Another perk was, they were moved to an earlier flight. She was glad that there were far less people on this flight since that meant, there was no one sitting beside her. It was a rare luxury not to be bumping your arm into someone for the entire trip.

When they deplaned, she realized the downside to this whole thing. They had hours before they had to be at Wizard World. It wasn't even nine yet and they weren't scheduled until four. A very long seven hours away. Being early was cool, being that early would be ridiculous.

She grabbed her bag off the conveyor and waited for the guys luggage. Finally after almost ten minutes, their bags came down the conveyor and they grabbed them eagerly.

Roman stretched, mumbling curses about tiny airplane seats. "I don't know about you two but I'm starving."

"I could definitely eat." Dean slipped his sunglasses over his eyes and adjusted the baseball cap on his head. "There's a good breakfast place near my apartment."

"Sounds good." Paige agreed, finally feeling slightly better. "So where's the rental counter so we can get going."

"No need," The lunatic fringe informed her with a smirk. "We can grab a cab to my place, drop our bags off then walk to the restaurant."

"Good idea, that way I can change out of these bloody pajamas." She grabbed the handle of her bag, but was surprised to see the guys still standing there. "What? Why aren't we moving?"

"Ro's got to go make himself less recognizable." Dean clucked his tongue. "You might want to do the same."

"I look a hot mess and have no make-up on." Her tone was flat, "Trust me, no one will think that it's me."

The big Samoan chuckled at her honesty, "Plus you look about twelve right now."

Crossing her arms over her chest, she leveled him with a death glare. "Oh good, so I could loudly yell 'hey look it's Roman Reigns' and everyone would flock to you. Perfect distraction for Dean and I to slip out of here unnoticed and leave you to the chaos."

"You wouldn't."

"Yeah, she would." Dean shook his head with a laugh, "I mean, she twittered Wade's phone number."

Roman looked at his technology impaired friend, "I think you mean tweeted."

"Whatever."

"Allegedly." She huffed, "I maintain that it was merely coincidence that after he treated my friend like shit and tossed her aside for some cheap ring rat scrubber that someone hacked my account and made that information which was available in my private messages, public."

"Right," The long haired man eyed her warily.

"You're still standing there." An eyebrow arched in challenge. "Should I do my best impression of a fan girl?"

Obviously deciding that she wasn't joking, Roman grabbed his bag and headed in the direction of the rest rooms. Her eyes wandered around the area to see if they were garnering any attention. But it seemed they were in the clear. Most of the people around them seemed to be hurrying along, in their own little world. That suited her just fine, she was still tired and hung-over, lacking the energy to be on right then.

The minutes ticked by, completely silent. She chanced a look at her partner in last nights crime. He was casually leaning against a pillar as he checked his phone. "Please tell me that you're not watching a video of our drunken dance off."

He gave a little laugh, "Nope, don't know how to do that. I'm just reading Seth's texts. They're hilarious."

"Oh?"

"I guess he blames me for the one hundred and fifty phone calls and texts he received from strangers. In twenty of them, he swears to slip and really bash me in the head with a steel chair. In another ten, he says he's going to choke me." He snorted, "And cause it's not polite to say in front of a chick, I won't even repeat what the other thirteen threaten."

She made a face, "Lovely."

"You'd think he'd realize that all this time he's spent texting me threats, he could have been using to change his phone number."

Huh, in a weird and twisted way that actually made sense. Which meant that either she was losing her mind or the lack of food was dropping her blood sugar level to unsafe areas. If the long haired man didn't get back here soon, she was going to ask the courtesy desk to page Roman Reigns to baggage claim. "Ugh, when the hell is your friend going to get his big ass back here. I'm the bloody chick and I don't take that long in the bathroom."

"Usual routine." The lunatic muttered tiredly, "He's changing his clothes and taking his contacts out."

"Um," Her eyes blinked, confusion painted on her face. "Why would he change his clothes here when he could change them at your house?"

Dean gave a lazy shrug, "It's his Clark Kent moment. In his mind, changing clothes helps the disguise."

"Does it work?"

"He's a tall Samoan dude that looks like he was chiseled out of granite with a giant tribal sleeve and a penchant for ponytails or a man-bun." The sarcasm layered that statement and those blue eyes were dancing with amusement. "What do you think?"

A scowl twisted her lips as she noticed the third member of their party making his way toward them in a different ensemble but still easily recognizable. "I think I shouldn't have bothered to ask."

"Ah, I see he broke out the Georgia tech shirt and hat." Blue eyes rolled, "Because I'm sure no one knows where he went to school."

Roman stopped and gave them a smile, "What are we waiting for? I'm starving."

It was her turn to roll her eyes but she refrained from saying what she wanted to. If she did, they'd probably be here for another half an hour while the wanna-be Superman explained his perfect disguise. She grabbed her bag and started following between her two companions as Dean made some snide comments about his friend's attire.


	4. Chapter 4

When the taxi dropped them off, to say that Paige was staggered would be an understatement. She had thought that maybe, just maybe, his place would be the complete opposite of the image he presented to the public.

But it wasn't.

Dean's apartment was exactly what you'd expect of the man portrayed on television. Not on the Vegas strip but not too far from it. It was a modest but clean apartment complex. The basic gray stucco exterior's grouped together with a common area of swimming pool, gym and club house out the back. It definitely wasn't the fancy, upscale type of place that you'd expect a WWE superstar to live.

He had a single unit, with a garage beneath his apartment as opposed to the more common two apartment units. The apartment itself was simple. White walls, gray carpeting in the living room and bedroom. Plain gray tile floors in the kitchen and bathroom. Sliding doors in the living room led onto a secluded balcony that gave you a view of the lights of the strip.

It's décor was sparse. The living room boasted a faux marble fireplace built into the wall that appeared to be electric. It was furnished with oversized gray sectional, a coffee table, a couple of basic metal lamps, a large stereo system and giant TV. There were no pictures on the wall. No personal mementos strewn about.

The kitchen was small, galley style. Stainless steel oven, microwave, dishwasher and refrigerator dominated the small space. The countertops were a dark granite, swirls of black and gray going through them. Dark wood cabinets filled the wall. At one end of the room was a breakfast bar that was open to the living room and two plain gray stools situated in the living room side of it, at the other end was a laundry closet that housed his washer and dryer.

A small but functional bathroom and his bedroom were right off the living room. The bathroom had a normal white bathtub with the shower built into the wall. It was covered by a plain gray curtain. The sink was also white and surrounded by the same granite countertop as in the kitchen. There was a small linen closet in the room where he stored his towels, wash cloths and other bathroom stuff.

She was very disappointed that the bedroom followed the trend. It didn't have a door to offer privacy, which was fine considering that he lived alone. A giant, king size bed dominated the room. There were two nightstands with generic lamps on top of them and a dresser in a dark wood and a matching bookcase that was filled with books. His bedding of choice was a plain, black and gray plaid blanket and gray sheets. A walk in closet was practically empty, only about half of one side being used.

When she was done changing, she flopped down on the couch. It was a good thing that it was so big and comfortable since she was going to be sleeping there tonight. But it was a bit disconcerting that she was going to be in such close proximity to Dean the entire time. It was a little off putting to know that if he looked out from his bedroom, he was staring straight at her on the couch.

The occupant of the apartment had jumped in the bathroom as soon as she was done changing to take a shower, stating that he wanted to get the airplane stench off him. He told them to relax and to help themselves to anything in the fridge that was still good. She surveyed the contents of his fridge, noting that other than beer and water that there was nothing but a few take out containers. Given that this last road trip had stretched eleven days, she knew that meant that whatever was in those containers was a trip to food poisoning city. She grabbed a bottle of water and shut the door with a shake of her head.

Roman had an arched, amused expression on his face as he pulled his attention away from ESPN's Sports-center. "Not what you expected."

"You know," She started slowly, "I should have been expecting it. He doesn't give off that vibe."

"Vibe?"

"The kind of man who has to flaunt himself by having the opulent things in life."

The dark haired man nodded, "To him, this is fancy. You should have seen us apartment hunting with him. Seth dragged him to all these luxurious condo's, apartment complexes and penthouses. I thought Dean was going to crawl out of his skin."

"I could see that."

"But of course, the places that he liked were the ones we hated. They were so bad. We're talking they looked like they were from the seventies or eighties. Old carpet, discolored walls, mirrored closet doors. Although I have to say, Seth's reaction to the places were hysterical."

Paige pulled a face at that, "Shouldn't he have gotten to choose what he liked?"

"Not when he liked places in questionable area's that had no security to them." Roman let out a breath, his expression grave as his eyes drifted to the security system on the wall by the front door. "One place had a fresh chalk outline and puddles of dried blood in front of it."

"Oh." She blinked at that. "I can see why they were vetoed then."

"This place was the only one we could all agree on. It was basic enough for him but also had enough security and was in a decent neighborhood for Seth and me. Plus it was one of the few we looked at that came with the option of being completely furnished."

"You guys are really good friends."

"Dean's not a fabricated character and he's not lying when he talks about how he grew up. We tease him about the fact that he's cheap but when you grew up with nothing, you tend to be thrifty when you finally do have something. To him, buying a condo, house or spending a lot on an apartment when he would only be there one day a week was ridiculous." The older man confided quietly. "So what you see is what you get with him, on television and off."

This conversation was getting odd. She really didn't need to know all this and she had no idea why the burly Samoan was telling her. "Alright."

Roman opened his mouth to continue but the bathroom door opened and forced a smile to his face, "Hey man, feeling better?"

Dean emerged in a pair of black workout shorts and a white ribbed tank top. He looked at them and frowned, "You two look serious."

"Serious? No," She chuckled, "I was admiring your place and the big guy here was telling me about the joys of apartment hunting with Seth."

"Right, joy." Blue eyes rolled at that description.

"Oh come on man," Roman encouraged, "You have to admit that his reactions to places were pretty damn entertaining. Like when he fell in love with that condo and you shot it down."

"You would have thought I murdered his family." He shook his head, grabbing his baseball cap.

She looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "How come he just didn't get it for himself if he loved it so much?"

"Cause he had just closed on a new house in Davenport the week before." Dean waved a hand in dismissal. "Thank god for that. I couldn't have him living too close anyway. He'd drive me crazy with all his nagging within a week."

The Samoan nodded his agreement. "We're brothers but we need our space. Too much togetherness and we're ready to throw down with each other."

"Ok boys, so if my crash course in all things brotherhood is finished, can we please go eat? I really need to have something greasy in my stomach." Paige grinned at her companions.

They headed out, walking down the road to a small diner a few blocks away from Dean's apartment. He led the way to a booth in the back, giving a slight wave to the staff behind the counter. She sat next to him, Roman taking up the other side of the table.

An older lady came over a second later, dropping off some menus with a smile. She picked up her pad and looked at them. "Welcome, can I get you some coffee or tea while you look at the menu?"

"Coffee." The guys said at the same time then chuckled at that.

A smile crossed her face as she looked at the waitress, "Orange juice please."

"Sure thing kids, I'll be back in a few to take your orders."

She grabbed her menu, her stomach rumbling as the delicious scents of the diner food assaulted her senses. Her eyes scanned the list and she found herself torn between several plates. "This all looks good."

"That it does." The long haired man echoed. "I'm thinking this can be my cheat day cause this triple play is looking too good to pass up."

"What's that?" Her eyes raked over the list in front of her until they landed on the dish he named. Three pancakes, three eggs, three slices of bacon or three sausages with home fries and toast. While it sounded good, it was far too much for her. "Bloody hell, that's a lot of food."

"If you want it," Dean's voice in her ear surprised her, "I'll help you eat it."

Oh so he wanted to play at this again? Well, she was onto him. This time, she would not let his fake flirting affect her. She couldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing he could get to her. "I'll bear it in mind."

He sat back and smirked at her, "You do that."

The waitress came back, delivering their drinks. "So what can I get for you all today?"

"Triple play."

"Ok, how would you like your eggs?"

"Over easy and wheat toast." Roman said succinctly, eyes locked on the duo on the other side of the table.

"And for you?" The waitress turned her attention to the youngest member of the trio.

"Um, I'm just going to get the double down eggs, scrambled with bacon." Paige handed her the menu with a smile, enjoying her little victory.

"The usual for you Dean?" The waitress asked with nod toward his unopened menu, which he handed to her.

"Not today, I want something…" His smirk grew wider. "satisfying."

"May I suggest the winner take all. It's two eggs, pancakes or French toast with two strips of bacon, two sausages, home fries."

"Sounds good darling, I'll get it with the eggs over hard and pancakes." He winked conspiratorially. "And make sure it's good and hot."

"Always." The older lady winked back and headed away to put their orders in.

Roman was staring at his friend with a bemused look, "You flirted with a waitress who's old enough to be your mother."

"Guarantees my food is better than yours." Dean informed him with a smirk.

"It doesn't surprise me that he did it." Paige grinned, shaking her head. "He's a terrific flirt. It's like breathing to him."

"Guess that means you like it." He murmured in her ear then sat back with a cocky twist to his lips.

The Samoan's gaze narrowed as it settled on his friend. "After breakfast, how about we go for a run? You know, like I said we would next time I was in town."

"Yeah, sounds fun." The words weren't free and easy. They were tense and clipped as were the steely blue eyes that locked on the other man. That patented devilish smirk had twisted ever so slightly, becoming forced and brittle.

The waitress returned a few minutes later, her arms loaded down with their order. She placed two plates in front of Roman and two in front of Dean. "There you go boys. I'll be right back with yours sweetie."

"I seriously can't believe you're going to eat all that." Her eyes scanned their humongous feast.

"Believe that." A brief grin stole over the oldest member of the trio's face but diminished quickly, "It's worse when there's sushi involved."

Dean didn't say anything, opting to dig into his food.

She was aware that something was transpiring but didn't know what. Not wanting their breakfast to be tense and awkward, she pasted a smile on her lips as the waitress returned with her modest plate. Nodding her thanks, she decided to steer the conversation back toward a safer topic. "So Wizard World should be a blast. Those Q&A sessions are always interesting."

The Samoan just hummed around a mouthful of food and the other man didn't even bother to respond. Well this was just grand. They had better work out their issue when they went on their run. If not, she had a feeling that she was going to have to break up fights when they all went out later.

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Roman bent over, breathing hard. He was not a runner. His body was designed more for power activities like lifting weights. The only time he had ever really thought running was worthwhile was on a football field when he made a rare interception and ran for a couple of yards before letting the offense take over or he was racing to sack the quarterback. But even then he knew his limits and doing this insane trek through the desert just so he could talk to his brother in private was way over them.

"Shit," He muttered, wishing like hell that he could just sit down for a minute.

"You ok big dog?" There was a mocking quality to Dean's voice.

"Yeah, fine man."

"Good cause there's still three miles to go."

His head snapped up at that. Damn it. He should have known that his friend was going to torment him in retaliation. "Three?"

Dean was jogging in place, throwing fists at the air. "Yep, I should warn you though, the last two are uphill."

A grimace stole over his face, "Sounds great."

"We should really get moving though, wouldn't want to be late for Wizard World." There was an odd cheerfulness that was in the blue eyed man's tone that didn't quite belong.

"Uh…"

"Or you could just drop all this wanting to go for a run bullshit and tell me what the fuck your problem is."

Roman straightened up, leveling his gaze at the man he called his best friend, his brother and hoped that he could get through to him. "I want to know what the hell you're playing at with Paige."

"Listen, you're blowing this whole thing out of proportion." Dean rolled his eyes, mouth twisted in a scowl. "You know me man, I'm a flirt. It's not exactly a secret."

"No, I've seen you "just flirt" with every chick at a signing, in a bar or who comes up to you at an airport. This is more than that. A lot more."

"You're imagining things man."

"No, I'm not." Roman persisted, "You offered for her to stay at your place when you've never even entertained the notion of having any of our other coworkers over for as much as a drink when they're in town. Then last night, you invited yourself to watch a movie with her when you don't even like horror movies. You made it into a movie marathon, dragged her out for a night of drunken antics and supposedly passed out in her room. Now, you're getting all touchy feely…"

"My hands have not touched her." He held them aloft, condescending smirk firmly in place.

"What do you call all the whispering in her ear?"

Dean's look was impassive, "Saying something I didn't want anyone else to hear."

"Ok, man, all I'm saying is that you're in a really good place right now. Mentally and physically, you're in the best shape I've ever seen you in. But she's not. She just broke up with her boyfriend after finding out that he was cheating on her,"

"And?"

"I don't want to see something happen that gets you all fucked up, like you were those last several months that we were all in Florida. You were wrestling endless dark matches after your angle with Foley couldn't take place, wondering what the hell was going to happen. Going out of your mind because they wouldn't put you on TV or NXT…" Roman said honestly, trying to make his friend understand why he was concerned.

"You're gonna go there?" The words were a tense growl, his hands flexing in and out of fists.

"I know, the circumstances are different but I'm scared that if something goes wrong then the reaction will be the same." The Samoan admitted quietly. "It scares me because I never again want to experience walking into a completely trashed house to find you drunk and strung out on something, laughing like a lunatic as you're playing with broken glass."


	5. Chapter 5

After their run, Dean dropped his friend at the hotel. He needed the time away from the other man to get himself back in the frame of mind he needed to be in. If he showed up for the appearance in his current mood it wouldn't be good. Knowing himself like he did, he'd probably rip the head off of the first person who asked a stupid question. That really wouldn't go over well.

There was nothing like a friend bringing up really bad moment in your life to darken your mood. He took the stairs to his apartment door two at a time. Forgetting that he had a houseguest, he slammed the door shut behind him. Blue eyes locked on wide, startled brown ones and he sighed. Feeling like an asshole, he mumbled quietly. "Sorry."

Paige studied him for a moment then pulled herself up into a seated position on the couch. "What happened?"

Wanting to change the subject, he frowned. "Why were you sleeping on the couch?"

"Uh, because you invited me to stay here remember?" She looked him over, eyes sweeping his face for any sign of an injury.

"Yeah I remember but you're taking the bedroom." He insisted. "Even I'm not that much of an asshole."

"No, no I can't put you out like that…"

He waved it off, "I don't really sleep. I just get up and down all night. Half the time I end up on the couch, watching television until I finally pass the fuck out. Take the damn bedroom."

"Fine…" She gave him her best intimidating look. "If you tell me what happened."

"Nothing." He muttered evasively, tearing his gaze away from her.

"Great, I was hoping we could skip over this." She groaned as she got off the couch and crossed the room to stand in front of him.

His expression conveyed his confusion. "Huh? Skip over what?"

She made a face. "You know, the bullshit of me asking if you're ok. You saying that you are then brooding silently until I can't take it anymore and ask again. And it keeps going like that until we both get so pissed off that we end up fighting with each other. Then the heavy, tense silence takes over for a while until you finally crack and tell me what's wrong."

"That's how it goes?" He was genuinely perplexed by this. "Cause after the second time it's asked, I usually storm off or put my ear buds in."

"Ugh," Her tone was laden with exasperation. "Work with me here Deano."

An eyebrow furrowed and he grimaced, inadvertently wiggling a little, like he wanted to crawl out of his skin at the nickname. "Um, yeah like I've told Seth, I won't answer to that."

Her hands latched onto his biceps to stop his eccentric tick. "Dean, just tell me what happened. I really don't want to show up to Wizard World to find out Roman's not there."

"Ha, I didn't even think of that."

"Good, I'm going to take that as you didn't ditch him in the middle of bloody nowhere just for shits and giggles." She let out a sigh, looking up at him. "Is he going to have to explain any bruises or cuts?"

A smirk curved his lips but he didn't answer. It was more fun to watch her reactions as she tried to decipher what his expression meant.

"Now is not the time to fuck with me." It was a frustrated growl, "We have an appearance to go to in three hours. I need to know if I should plan a trip to a drug store to grab makeup to hide any injuries on him because mine is too damn light for his skin tone ."

"As much fun as it'd be to watch you make him a pretty princess, it's not needed." He relented reluctantly, meeting those dark brown eyes. "My fist never left my side."

"Impressive." She released him, putting some distance between them. "I was sure that I was going to have to patch you guys up."

"Well darlin, I won't say no if you want to play nurse for me." He lilted suggestively and watched the color bloom in her pale skin. "I'll even be on my best behavior."

A chuckle stole from her lips, "The words you and best behavior really doesn't really inspire a lot of confidence."

"No?"

"Not at all." She looked up at him through her lashes. "Because something tells me that you're a very bad boy who can't be trusted."

He crossed his arms over his chest, his thumbs tapping frenetically against his biceps, lips pursed in his patented leer as he leaned against the wall in lazy way. "What makes you think that?"

"Wouldn't you like to know." Her eyebrow lifted as she grabbed her bag. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go shower."

His eyes followed her to the door.

She turned suddenly, that knowing look still on her face. "You try to steal a look and I'll make sure you'll regret it."

Watching her disappear inside the bathroom with her things, he let out a breath he hadn't realized that he was holding. His hand went to his chest, rubbing at it like he so often did when he was edgy. Because he realized that he was fucked. There was no way in hell that he wasn't going to do something that was probably going to end up blowing up in his face. Hopefully the fall out wouldn't destroy everything he had worked for.

A laugh slipped out of his lips. Who the hell was he kidding? He was going to do what he always did. Whatever the hell he wanted to do, consequences be damned.

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Roman was waiting for his companions in the small staging area that led to the auditorium where they were doing their Q&A. He greeted them with a weak smile, wondering if his friend's demeanor had improved since he last saw him. "Hey, what took you so long?"

"Chicks take forever to get ready." Dean huffed. "I heard about it but living through it is something else. I couldn't use my bathroom for almost two hours!"

"Oh shut it." Paige rolled her eyes. "It's a process when there's not a team of make-up artists and stylists to do it for you."

Blue eyes narrowed, "I think you meant circus."

The raven haired woman glared at him. "Circus?"

"Yep, I was expecting clowns to come spilling out of the bathroom."

The Samoan laughed because he knew that nothing good could come of that statement. Being married, he had first hand experience of the perils of a woman getting ready. He had learned his lesson about mentioning it though and would never dare to bring up clowns in reference to it. But Dean had never been in a relationship serious enough to make it to the live together stage so he never learned that lesson.

"Clowns…" The British beauty's look was deadly. "You think that I look like a circus clown."

"That's not what I said." His defense was weak.

"You implied it." The retort was sharp.

"Fuck, I wouldn't have said anything if I knew how bitchy you'd get about it." The Ohio native's response was growled.

Roman pinched the bridge of his nose. This was not good. Women did not take kindly to men calling them bitchy. Why the hell did his friend have to provoke a woman who seemed to have a temper that could rival the lunatic's? His eyes scanned the room and he identified way too many possible projectile objects that could be used if this broke down further.

Brown eyes flashed then narrowed to slits as perfectly defined lips twisted in a sneer. "I don't think I heard you right. Could you repeat that?"

Dean, being his usual blunt self, was about to do it. But before the first words could escape his mouth it was covered by a large, tan hand. He tried to bite the palm but his friend clamped down harder on his hold.

"Oh good, someone finally muzzled you." Her heated gaze swept over them. "We still got time before the session and if I stay here, time may not be the only thing that gets killed. So I'm off to check out the booths."

Roman didn't remove his hand until Paige was out of sight because he knew that the former United states champion would say something. She'd storm back over to them, voices would be raised and attention would definitely be attracted. And he didn't really want to be stuck in a the middle of their war. He shook his head and sighed heavily, "You remember the conversation we had about crazy chicks?"

"Yeah."

"Well man, you just pissed one off." He clapped him lightly on the back. "If I were you tonight, I'd watch my back and my front at all times."

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "She won't hurt me."

"What makes you think that?"

"Cause she'd miss me." He smiled. "I've made her life a hell of a lot more interesting these past couple of days."

"Speaking of which…" The Samoan grimaced, "There's a shit load of video on the web of your illustrious dance off. So be prepared to answer some questions about the break dancing skills you threw down."

"Jealous you can't move like that big dog?"

"Sure, I've always wanted to look like I'm having a seizure." He rolled his eyes. "But back to my point. You do know that the fans are going to ask if you two are dating? Or suggest that you should."

Dean just shrugged, although his face said that he wasn't too happy about the topic of his personal life being broached. He despised having to talk about any area of his life that didn't relate to only what you saw on TV. It was probably old-school mentality but his privacy meant a lot to him. It was why he avoided social media like the plague. There was no need for the world to know anything about him other than what he said in promo's and what he did in the ring.

"Well I'm wondering how the girl you pissed off by comparing her to a clown is going to deal with that."

"I didn't compare her to a clown…"

Roman laughed, "Hate to tell you brother but you kind of did. Then to further shoot yourself in the foot, you called her bitchy! If I didn't stop you from repeating it, I'd be doing this Q&A alone because you'd be dead and she'd be in police custody."

"Whatever." He scoffed, "Like I said, she won't do anything to me."

"Famous last words my friend."

111111111111111111111111111111111111

The Q&A session got off to a little bit of a rocky start. Originally Paige's seat was supposed to be next to Dean's at the end of the table. But since she was still pissed off at him, she made the choice to take the seat closest to the host which relegated Roman to the literally being the middle man. The crowd didn't seem to notice the dissention. They were hyped up and ready to get to speak with their favorite wrestlers.

They got the usual questions. What was you favorite match? Who is your dream opponent? Do you see yourself headlining Wrestlemania? If you weren't a wrestler, what would you be?

He replied with his standard, vague answers. If he answered them honestly, he'd probably get himself into a shit-load of trouble. Favorite match-he hasn't won the world title yet so he hasn't had a favorite. Dream opponent-wasn't in the company. Headlining Wrestlemania-not unless they got their heads out of their asses and pushed him. If he wasn't a wrestler- well he'd probably be in jail.

It didn't take long before a fan asked about the video of the dance-off and if they were dating. He tensed, not only in fear of her response but because he didn't want to answer. His relationships or lack there of, wasn't anyone's business but his own. Of course he couldn't tell them that. Though if he rambled on pointlessly, he could probably make them forget what they asked and avoid answering it at all.

Paige fielded the inquiry before he could open his mouth and laughed it off, "Well, first off I need to apologize for being a horrible dancer but we always like to have a bit of fun with the fans whenever we can. Roman, Dean and I have known each other since our days down in FCW and NXT. We're good friends, nothing more."

Dean felt his body relax. He should have known he had nothing to worry about. She was going to be professional. It was probably only because these things were taped. Paul would definitely have his people checking sites for footage, wanting to make sure that his employees didn't do anything to embarrass the company.

Although he had a feeling that he'd be getting a call to the office at RAW once they saw the liquor store footage.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean sat on the couch, his leg jiggling in annoyance as he took a long swallow from his bottle of beer. Three hours. That's how long he had been given the silent treatment. She hadn't spoken a word to him after the Q&A, as they walked around and looked at exhibits or took pictures with fans. Even the ride back to his apartment had been completely quiet, her checking her phone and him stewing in anger.

Usually, he wouldn't give a fuck especially since he wasn't even hooking up with her. But he wanted to. His plan had been to go out and have fun night with her that could lead to a little more. Not be ignored and glared at like he was the worst piece of shit in the universe. That usually came much later in the plans, like when he needed an exit strategy.

He really wanted to confront her. To tell her that she was acting insane. That she was blowing this whole thing out of proportion and to get over it. How life was so much easier if you didn't have a stick up your ass every time someone made a joke. That when you gave people power over you by showing them your real emotions, you were only fucking yourself over.

Roman had vehemently warned him against it though. His friend argued that if you went into battle with a woman, you were never going to win. If you tried, you'd get eviscerated. Women were never wrong even when they were. Trying to prove that theory incorrect just ended badly for men.

That statement just proved what he had always suspected. All chicks were nuts, didn't matter how cool or different they seemed. It also confirmed to him that he had been right every time he bailed out before a relationship got serious. Because if he had to deal with this bullshit everyday, he'd be locked up in an asylum or jail for the rest of his life.

He was startled out of his musings when the bathroom door opened. When she walked out, he knew he was in trouble. She looked like sin personified and he really wanted to test that theory. Her long black and blue hair hung freely, draped over her shoulders. She was wearing a skin tight pair of black jeans that were strategically ripped to tease hints of pale skin with a cropped black and purple tank top that hugged her perfectly.

As she strutted past him, going to drop her makeup bag in the bedroom, the fact that her shirt had no back and therefore she wasn't wearing a bra became known to him. And those jeans showed off every curve enough that he realized the only thing that was probably under there was either a flimsy thong or nothing but skin. There was no way in hell that she didn't know what dressing like that would do to any man in a three foot radius. This was payback for earlier. She was trying to make him snap.

"Shit." His mutter was panicked as he finished the half of bottle of beer that he had in one long swallow.

Getting to his feet, he went into the kitchen and grabbed the pack of cigarettes he had stashed in his freezer then headed out to the balcony. He reached up and grabbed the lighter he kept on top of the ledge of the doorway. Fishing one out the pack, he popped it into his mouth and lit up. That first drag calmed him instantly and he blew out the smoke, letting his eyelids fall shut. Fuck it, he'd start over trying to quit tomorrow. Tonight, he needed something that would serve as a way to allow him to escape whenever he felt stressed.

He leaned his arms against the railing, taking another drag from his smoke as he stared out at the lights of his adopted hometown. Yeah it was known to be gritty and dangerous but it was the perfect place for him. It never shut down. You could get lost and never be found if you didn't want to be. Sometimes, he really thought about just getting lost...

"You smoke." Paige's voice didn't sound surprised.

Two words but an improvement over the silence. He turned to face her and leaned back against the railing, holding her gaze. "Not all the time."

"Oh yeah?" An eyebrow arched as she stared at him.

"I've been trying to quit." His eyes drifted down to the betraying object in his hand. "It's not easy."

Her dismissive gaze focused on the sight of the lights from the Vegas strip, "You've got a nice view."

He sighed, taking one last inhale off his cigarette and put it out in the stand up ashtray he kept on the balcony. This was so damn awkward. Something had to be done to diffuse the tension before he lost his mind. "Listen, about earlier-"

"Let's not." She cut him off, those brown eyes coming to rest on him again. "Cause I already know that whatever you say will just piss me off again and I'd rather that we just go get drunk."

"So what's that mean?" He posed sarcastically, "Gonna ignore me all night?"

She rolled her eyes, "Probably."

Pushing off the rail, he stalked over to where she was and leaned down, his mouth near her ear. "You can try but I can make that impossible."

Her fingers danced up his chest, painted nails lightly scratching at the black t-shirt he wore. She looked up at him, lips curved in a sinful smirk and eyes flashing beneath her dark lashes. "Don't count on it Deano."

His eyebrow raised as she released him and walked back into the apartment. If she really wanted to play, she needed to realize who she was playing with. He was a master at this game. Not only was he sure that he had way more experience than she did but he'd always been able to get any girl he set sights on. Even when he was nothing more than a broke indie wrestler who was living on friend's couches, in flea-bag motel rooms or in his decrepit rust bucket of a car.

But did he really want to revert to this game? She wasn't just some random chick he was toying with at a bar that he'd never see again. They were co-workers. Had friends in common. Did he really want to deal with the inevitable drama that would plague his life if this blew up in his face?

His fingers tapped frantically against his collarbone as he tried to think this situation through. Maybe Roman was right when he said that her head was all fucked up over her recent breakup. Chicks always took that shit hard. They didn't bounce back as quickly as guys did. But a week was a long time to mope…

The sound of a throat being cleared pulled him out of his thoughts, he blinked and settled his gaze on her, "I hate to spoil this for you but ignoring me doesn't really work when you keep trying to get my attention."

"How we doing this tonight?" She crossed her arms, "Cause if we're going with a designated driver, I'm calling not it right now."

He chuckled, blue eyes rolling. "Do Ro or I strike you as the type to be designated drivers? Beside, I couldn't be it since I've already had a few beers while I was waiting for you to finish getting ready."

"Shit," Her eyes widened, "If I end up dying in a fiery drunk driving accident because one of you idiots refuses not to drink for one bloody night, I swear that I will fucking haunt whoever survives. And I will not be Casper the fucking friendly ghost. I will be a pissed off poltergeist…"

As much as he wanted to laugh at her reaction, he held it back. His hands grasped her shoulders, thumbs stroking lightly and comfortingly against the smooth skin. Blue eyes peered into bottomless brown. "Relax and trust me darlin', no one's driving tonight."

Paige took a step away from him, arching an eyebrow as she stared down at her feet with a grimace. The heeled boots she was wearing were not made to trek in. "Well if we're walking then I need to change my shoes."

"No," He reached for her as she turned to go, grabbing her hand and halting her attempted hasty retreat, "We're gonna grab a cab to the hotel to meet up with Roman. His hotel's right on the strip."

She shook off his hold, her head raising stubbornly. "Fine then let's get going."

* * *

Roman hadn't envisioned the night being like this. He'd pictured a night of endless drinks, inane conversation and just having fun with his brother and their co-worker. A throwback to their less stressful days in developmental. While the drinks were flowing according to plan, the rest was not. An hour into this outing and conversation was practically non-existent.

Paige would at least contribute when he tried to get a conversation flowing. But Dean was content to just sit there, down drinks and get up every fifteen minutes like clock-work to go outside. Just as he thought it, the dirty blonde stood and chugged down the rest of his beer.

"I need some air." He gruffly announced, striding off before the other two occupants of the table could say anything.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So I'm guessing that you two haven't settled your issues from earlier."

"What was your first clue?"

"Oh you know, the awkward silence."

"In his defense," The brit rolled her eyes, "he did attempt to try to smooth it out but since he doesn't seem to know how to speak and not piss someone off, I put an end to it."

"That explains his mood." He raised an eyebrow, his lips twisting into a scowl. "But come Monday, him and I are gonna have another chat about the dangers of smoking. I'll even have Seth bring some visual aids to drive the point home."

She chuckled, "Not fooling you with his constant need for air huh?"

"Nope, I know him too well and well, he reeks of smoke." He noticed his friend heading back toward the table, two drinks in his hand. "Looks like something's up because that was a lot quicker than any of his previous smoke breaks."

Dean dropped down into his seat and promptly tossed back the shot then chased it with another. The corners of his lips turned up slightly. "Per the rules of the usual game, doubled my shot since I've picked up a shadow."

"Great, just great," Roman swept the area with his eyes and spotted the said shadow, lurking a discreet distance from them. "Do we have to settle up and head out?"

"No, so far it's just hovering." A long drink of beer followed that and he tossed a piece of gum into his mouth. "Trying to scope out the situation before a move is made."

Paige cleared her throat, brown eyes flicking between the two men in confusion. "What the bloody hell are you two going on about?"

A quiet chuckle fell from Roman's mouth. "It means that Dean's attracted the attention of a woman who's following him. She's content to fall back and survey the scene until she knows the score."

"What scene? What score?" Her nose wrinkled, uncertainty painted on her face. Dean leaned in close, his arm now resting on the back of her chair and murmured in her ear with a devilish smirk. Her eyes widened slightly and two spots of color bloomed on her pale skin. "Oh."

He sat back, that smirk now a full fledged, dimpled grin as his finger playfully wound a lock of her two toned hair around it. "Now that all the players are aware of the score, I'm gonna need you to come out for some air with me since I didn't go out yet."

"Why me?" Her grin was teasing. "You could always use Roman."

The dark haired man raised his hand to halt this, "Sorry baby-girl but the only time we ever resort to that is if it gets us out of a life or death situation."

"Although redhead's might have to be added to that list." A shudder worked through the eccentric man and he took a long drink from his beer. "They're all fucking bat-shit crazy with evil tempers."

"Fine, come on Ambrose, I'll protect you." Paige grumbled good-naturedly as she got to her feet.

Dean got to his feet, ready to follow the raven haired woman but his friend's voice stopped him before he could.

"I'm begging you man, just once, think before you do something that'll blow up in your face." Roman wasn't reassured by the all too familiar smug look that appeared on pseudo brother's face.

The blonde haired man held up a hand, giving an all too familiar salute. "Scouts honor."

"You were never a boy scout."

"Are you coming or not?" Paige called back from her spot a few feet away, arms crossed as she glared at the two men.

"Relax man," He shimmied slightly under his friend's gaze and spit his gum into a napkin with a wink. "There's nothing to be worried about. Be back in a few."

Paige huffed when he finally joined her. "About damn time."

Dean just chuckled and slid his arm around her shoulders, pulling her tightly against his side. She tensed slightly at the unanticipated contacted but twined her arm around him in return. He maneuvered them through the people and out onto the patio, checking every so often to see if his unwanted shadow was following them. The red-head was hanging back, trying to be inconspicuous but slowly trailing after them. Apparently this chick was stubborn and not believing what he was portraying. He scowled slightly, moving in closer to where his companion was leaning with her back against the brick pillar.

Her eyes flickered briefly to the doorway, seeing a very transparent petite woman trying too hard to act as if she wasn't watching them carefully. Turning her attention back to her co-worker, she gave him a sympathetic smile. "Got to admire her determination."

"I figured she'd back off when she saw you." He murmured, fighting the urge to shoot the shadow a death glare, distracting himself slightly by playing with her hair. "Guess I'm just going to have to be a little more direct."

Paige opened her mouth to ask what his plan was but before she could even form the words, his mouth was on hers. She was blindsided by the unexpectedness of it but quickly found herself answering his intensity, wanting to make sure that his shadow got the message loudly and clearly. Until his tongue swiped against her lips and forced all coherent thought from her mind. She gave herself over to the involuntary rush of passion that burned through her veins and made every muscle in her body tremble in defeat. His hands went to her hips, fingers hooking into her belt loops and pulling her tighter to his body.

A low moan reverberated from her mouth as her tongue tangled with his. Her lungs were burning, heart pounding and legs trembling. She felt pleasantly light headed. The situation was as odd as the sensations that she was experiencing. It was like she had never been kissed so thoroughly or passionately before in her life. Her fingers slid into the soft curls at the back of his neck. His arms tightened around her as a groan slipped from him as his hands ran teasingly over her bare back, igniting goose-bumps on the flesh.

But then as suddenly as it started, Dean ended it. He stepped back from her with a smug look on his face. "Thanks, looks like the shadow knows the score now."

His hand made a rough pass over his mouth as he wiped away the evidence of what just transpired. He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cigarettes, opening the box and placing one between his lips. Withdrawing his lighter, he lit up his smoke and inhaled as he leaned back and looked up at the sky. "You should head back in."

Paige stood there somewhat bewildered, trying to get regain her breath and lost composure. He was dismissing her. She couldn't bring herself to look at him, her gaze boring into the wooden slats beneath her feet. Her cheeks burned feverishly and now it was more from embarrassment than anything else. She turned, walking stiffly to the door but threw back a sardonic, "Yeah, glad I could help."


	7. Chapter 7

Roman's ring-tone pulled him from sleep. His eyes cracked open and quickly shut again against the light invading his room. But the damage was already done with that one peek. A persistent pounding began in his head as the hangover from hell settled over him, the damn ringing of the phone exacerbating it. He groaned and snatched the offensive thing off the nightstand.

Accepting the call, he placed it to his ear. "What?"

There was a brief chuckle and then Seth's voice filled his ear. "Hey man, sorry if I woke you. I was just calling to see how Wizard World went."

"At eight-thirty in the morning when you know damn well that I was out with Dean and Paige until who knows when last night?" A dry, tired scoff broke through his lips. "I think you're just being nosy."

"Ok," More laughter from the other end of the line. "First of all, it's eleven-thirty here on the east coast. Those of us who weren't out drinking our body weight in alcohol have been up for hours, to the gym and back and done an interview already."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Cocky asshole."

"Second of all," He plowed on, ignoring the comment. "Well, yeah I am being curious but it's really not my fault. I got some weird ass text messages…"

"Wait." The Samoan groaned. "From who?"

"Dean."

He felt a pit of dread open in his stomach. "Shit, how weird?"

Again there was a chuckle. "Well, he was obviously piss drunk because a lot of what he sent weren't actually words and the few that were attempted words, didn't make sense."

A slight grin crossed the older man's lips. That wasn't surprising. Dean was bad enough with his phone sober that when he did get on a drunk texting kick, it really wasn't in English. Sometimes it was just a bunch of symbols. "So far, I'm not hearing anything unusual."

"He sent a picture."

Ignoring his pounding head and churning stomach, he sat up in bed, his eyes flying open in disbelief. "Dean sent a picture? Are you sure? Because he can barely turn his phone on without trying to murder it."

"I didn't say it was a good picture." It was easy to hear the eye roll that followed that. "I think it was either a wall or a ceiling. So I thought maybe he was trying to contact me because you idiots got yourselves arrested. But since I got a hold of you , I can relax now since that can't be the case."

"Uh," Roman hung his head. "I wasn't with them all night."

There was a silence for a second then Seth's voice came back, a little more worried than it had been a few minutes ago. "What do you mean you weren't with them all night?"

"At about two, I had enough. So I decided to call it quits. Dean and Paige said they were just gonna finish their drinks…"

"You left Dean, who was completely smashed, alone with Paige, who's known to be a wild-child, in Vegas and trusted that they would really just finish their drinks and go home? That they would somehow be responsible enough not to get into trouble?" The younger man's tone dripped with disbelief. "You're screwing with me right? Just want to hear me freak out?"

He wished he could say yes to that but he couldn't. "Ok, admittedly now that I'm sober, it doesn't sound like a good idea."

"Given what they got up to the night before, even if you're blind drunk the notion of leaving the two of them together sounds like a bad idea." There was the sound of keys clacking.

"What are you doing?"

"Checking the Vegas police logs to see if they got themselves arrested."

A long, slow blink followed that statement. "You're hacking into police files?"

"No, arrest records are public information." A little yelp of happiness followed that. "And their names aren't in any of the incidents from last night!"

Roman let out a relieved breath he didn't realize he had been holding. He was about to respond when he heard the keys still being clicked. "What are you checking now?"

"Twitter." Seth said flatly. "If they did anything stupid like the previous night, it'll definitely be on there in all it's glory."

He chuckled, "And if nothing's on twitter, what next?"

"Call the hospitals."

"Seth," He began, trying to figure out a way to diffuse his little brother's fear. "Don't you think you might be overreacting a little? Wouldn't it make more sense to try to call Dean than go on a wild goose chase?"

There was a weighted pause before the answer was slowly given. "I tried to call him before I called you. No one answered."

Ah, that explained why the younger man was freaking out. Even though it was a common occurrence for their brother not to answer his phone, he was reading the worst into it now that he knew that Dean had been left alone without supervision. It was up to him to calm him down before he completely lost it and got on a plane. "He was drunk. Odds are that he's passed out on the couch and his phone is dead."

"If he was alright, why would he send me a picture of whatever the hell that was?"

"Knowing Dean, he didn't know he took a picture or that he sent it to you." He reasoned, keeping his voice calm. "So I really wouldn't read too much into that."

"That's possible." Seth conceded, "But he could have been trying to show where he was! Who knows what trouble those two got themselves into? It's like letting the Joker and Harley Quinn loose."

"I really doubt that Paige and Dean had a night like the last one." He ran a hand through his tangled hair. "They got into an argument earlier in the day and really didn't do much talking at all. Then something else happened and Paige wouldn't even look at him."

"That doesn't make me feel better." A sigh escaped the younger man. "You know how much Dean loves being ignored. Nothing sets him off faster. He'd probably start a bar fight just to get her to break her silence."

This conversation was doing no favors to his throbbing head. He understood Seth's concern. But sometimes the youngest brother had a tendency to be the biggest mother hen that the world had ever seen. When he got like that, there was no way to get him out of that mind set. "Would it make you feel better if I went to Dean's place to check on him?"

"Yes."

"Fine, I'll do it." He growled slightly. "But if I end up getting to his apartment, finding him there and eating a fist because I woke his cranky, hung-over ass up then I'm going to be pissed at you."

"Hung-over Dean does love to hit first and ask questions later."

The sheer mirth in the youngest man's tone caused a growl to slip past his lips. "Yuck it up ass-munch and I'll make sure to put a little extra on the next spear you take."

Seth found the threat funny and laughed loudly. "But Ro, it's the big brother's job and last I checked, you were the oldest of us."

"Just like it's the little brother's job to be an obnoxious brat." He huffed, finally dragging his protesting body out of bed. "Oh yeah, before I forget, can you save some pictures of a diseased up lung on your laptop?"

"HE'S SMOKING AGAIN?"

He had to jerk the phone away from his ear because of the overly loud cry of outrage that threatened to deafen him. Blinking to try to clear the sharp pain behind his eye that made it twitch, he took a breath. "He didn't do it in front of me but he kept going out for air every time he finished a drink."

"Ugh, screw pictures! I'm going to drag his stubborn ass to a cancer ward so he can see first hand what that disgusting habit does to you. Maybe then it'll get through that thick head of his!"

Damn, that would not go down well at all. With corporate or with Dean. Vince would probably suspend both guys for breaking kayfabe and being seen in public together. The dirty blonde would probably choke Seth out in front of the patients for doing that. Or possibly rip his lungs out and offer them up for a transplant. "That might be a little drastic. If he doesn't listen after our little summit on Monday then we'll revisit the idea."

"Fine but mark my words…"

"Noted." He interrupted, knowing how the architect could be when he got started on a tangent. If it wasn't nipped in the bud quickly then it could go on and on. "I'm gonna hit the shower then head to Dean's place. I'll let you know what I find."

"Keep me updated cause if he's not there then I'm calling the hospitals."

"Will do." He hung up and let out a tired sigh.

He stretched, feeling various bones pop or creak in protest. His head was pounding and he desperately needed a shower. Maybe then he would feel more human. Plus, his hair really needed to be deep conditioned thoroughly before he was seen in public. The combination of dry air and bar stench was doing no favors to it.

After his shower, which ran longer than he planned but felt so good, he pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top. He made sure he had all his stuff then checked out of the hotel. His flight was in four hours so he wouldn't be going back there. Halfway to Dean's apartment, his phone rang and he answered with an eye roll. "I'm not there yet man."

"Roman, we have a problem." Seth's very harried voice sounded odd in the car.

Of course. Things had been going too smoothly. But then again, this was Seth and he tended to blow things out of proportion sometimes. So it could be nothing. "Are we talking little problem or big problem?"

There was a long sigh, "We're talking massive disaster."

Roman's blood ran cold. Despite what everyone else might think, the words Dean and massive disaster hadn't really been uttered together all the frequently. He could only think of two times. First time was back in their FCW days and Dean got into a bar fight with four other guys defending one of the women on the roster. It ended with him cracking several bottles over people's heads and being dragged out before the cops showed up. The second time was a road rage incident in Laredo that landed Dean in police custody but not technically arrested.

"Before you hit me with it, do I need to pull over?"

"Yeah, that'd probably be best because I'm sending you a link."

Oh fuck, there was a link. That couldn't be good. He pulled into the parking lot of a supermarket and parked just as the link came through. His finger hovered over the message but didn't push it as a horrible thought occurred to him. "It's not a sex tape right? Cause I really don't want to see Dean getting freaky in some club's hallway or alley."

"Oh god no!" Seth's voice got higher than normal. "Why would you say that? I'm going to have to bleach my brain now!"

"Well I never expected to get a link to naked pictures of you so I'm on guard now anytime someone sends me something about you guys." He answered honestly, a small smirk clinging to his lips.

There was an audible huff of annoyance, "Ass."

He gave a chuckle as he opened the link. But it died off quickly as he saw what came up on his screen. His eyes blinked rapidly but nothing changed. The damn thing remained the same. "Oh fucking hell…."

"Yup."

"Is there anyway this could be fake?" The desperation was plain in his voice. "Maybe an April fool's prank?"

Seth gave another sigh, "To borrow one of his favorite words, nope."

"Fuck." Roman pinched the bridge of his nose as the reality of the situation settled over him. He groaned, "I'm gonna need to see if I can switch my flight to tomorrow. There's no way in hell I can just leave with this happening."

"I'll take care of that for you, just give me the information."

He relayed the info to Seth, knowing it would be handled and hung up. At least that was one less thing to worry about. Unlike the link staring him in front of his face. That was a beast of much different and more complicated nature.

* * *

Dean pulled his pillow tighter against his head, trying to block out the persistent banging that was going on somewhere. But the damn noise refused to be muted. Muttering a long, vicious string of curses, he sat up. Everything spun around him and he closed his eyes in an effort to quell it. While it helped his head, it did little to stop the tumult that was his stomach.

He hadn't drink like that in a long time. Probably since his Indy days. But now he remembered why he had stopped. Because waking up still partially drunk and partially on the verge of the mother of all hangovers was not fun. It sucked and would only continue to suck enough he could get enough food, coffee and rest into his body.

The banging got louder. With a groan, he pulled himself to his feet. He froze quickly when he realized that he was naked. But there was probably a logical explanation for that. Like he probably puked at some point and stripped them off so he wouldn't get it all over the bed.

Pulling on a pair of workout shorts, he slowly made his way to the source of the noise. He pulled open his front door and was more than ready to level whoever was on the other side with a verbal tirade that would make a trucker blush. But he found himself falling backward instead as a stream of brightly colored helium balloons flew in at him. He did a back roll, jumped to his feet and was ready to fight off an attack when his eyes met the eyes of the man he considered his brother who had his arms loaded down with shopping bags.

"Jesus man, what the fuck? I thought I was being attacked by a fucking homicidal clown or some shit." Dean held a hand to his rapidly beating heart, his fingers twitching over his chest.

Roman breezed by him, kicking the door shut on his way. He went over to the breakfast bar and set the bags down. Slowly, he started unloading them. A cake. Bottle of champagne. Three containers that were obviously from the diner up the street from his house and a box of coffee.

"What the hell is all this about?"

A odd, fleeting look passed over the Samoan's face but was quickly replaced with the same blank expression the man had worn since the door had been opened. "This is the best celebration I could put together on short notice."

"Ok," The Ohio native said slowly and very cautiously. "I'll bite. What are we celebrating?"

Roman took a deep breath, his troubled gaze finally meeting the weary blue one. He wanted to falter. Not to be the one to deal with this. But Seth, who probably would have handled this situation far better, was on the other side of the country. So that left no one but him to do it. "Your marriage."


	8. Chapter 8

Dean gaped at his brother, disbelief etched on his face. He must have heard that wrong. The hangover was fucking with his hearing. That had to be it. Because there was no way that he said what he thought he did. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I said that we're celebrating your marriage." Roman gestured to the spread he brought with him and forced a smile. "I know it's not much. Consider this a low-key wedding reception for now. We'll do a bigger one down the road."

Fuck. So he heard him right. But it made no sense. There was only one explanation for his brother's odd behavior and it wasn't good. "I hope your ass didn't drive here because someone in your condition shouldn't be behind the wheel."

"My condition?" The bigger man frowned in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"The fact that you're fucking drunk!" He retorted, wide eyed. "I mean, damn, you even brought a bottle with you! It's not even noon yet man. Is this something that I need to start worrying about? Do I need to call Seth and have him plan an intervention?"

"Why would Seth have to plan an intervention?"

Blue eyes rolled, "Oh come on, we both know that he's way more organized with this type of shit than me. I'd probably plan it and forget to show up to it."

"Dean, I'm not drunk." He heaved a heavy sigh, wanting to get this back on track before it completely jumped the rails. "And you are married."

"No," The dirty blonde shook his head vehemently, ignoring the less than pleasant things it did to his alcohol laden senses. "I'm not. Never have been and never will be."

"Yes, you are."

"Nope."

"Yup."

"No, there's no way in hell that I would ever do that!"

"Apparently, there was!"

There was a stare down then younger man threw his head back and laughed. He finally realized what was going on and had to hand it to his best friend. "Oh man, you got me. You sold the hell out of that. Looking all serious and shit. Kept yourself from cracking a grin. Good job!"

Roman stepped forward and grabbed him by the shoulders. His eyes met his brother's and he shook his head slightly, trying to get through the stubborn man's wall of denial. "I'm not drunk, it's not a joke and before you ask, no I haven't lost my mind."

"Then someone slipped you something that got you all mixed up or you fell and hit your head, giving yourself a concussion. Because that's the only reason you'd be talking crazy like this." The words were getting desperate and panicked. "I don't even do relationships so how the fuck would I get married?"

"How do **you** get married?" He rolled his eyes. "Well, according to multiple gossip sites, **you** get shit-faced and go to an all night wedding chapel at four in the morning. Have the quickest ceremony they got. Then leave the building carrying your equally drunk new bride over your shoulder and loudly laughing that if they want a real story, they should video the honeymoon."

Dean swallowed, "No, that never happened. I would remember something like that."

"Not if you were blackout drunk which you were!"

Several silent seconds ticked by then he exploded. "They're fucking making this shit up and I'll kill them!"

"They're not making it up." There was nothing but sincerity in the tone. "A person at the chapel confirmed it and somehow, one of the photographers managed to get a picture of the marriage license. There's also a video of you leaving there, while it's not close up or great quality it's plastered all over the net."

"No…no…no!" The dirty blonde plopped down on the floor, backing up until his back hit a wall. It suddenly felt like it was hard to breathe. He tried to fight through it but something in his chest tightened painfully. Dropping his head into his hands, he willed himself to wake up and this all be some fucked up nightmare. "No…no…no!"

"You channeling Daniel Bryan?" Roman chuckled slightly, uncomfortable with the situation he found himself in. He knew he was going to get his head bitten off. Possibly punched. But there was only silence from his brother who had paled significantly in the last few seconds and looked like he wanted to curl up into a ball. "Dean?"

He shook his head, not raising it from his arms as he tried to suck in shallow, wheezing breaths. But even that made his chest feel like it was going to explode. Damn panic attacks. A shitty memento left over from his equally shitty childhood. It had been years since he suffered through one and he could safely say that he really didn't miss them.

Roman crouched, putting his hand on his friend's arm. His eyes widened as he felt the tremors racing through the dirty blonde. He gripped the paler flesh, offering him as much comfort as he could. "Dean, it's ok. This isn't the end of the world. It can be fixed."

"How?" The question was breathless but defeated. "What the fuck can I do to get rid of this nightmare?"

"You can get an annulment."

The tightness in his chest eased slightly. "An annulment?"

"Yeah." The older man stated flatly. "It invalidates the marriage which means that it never happened. Obviously you were intoxicated to the point that you didn't know what you were consenting to. So there shouldn't be a problem getting one."

"That sounds too easy." He responded, his paranoia kicking in. "There's got to be a catch."

Roman's faced flushed slightly. "Well, if I remember right the only catch is that the marriage can't have been consummated in order to do it. But given the condition you were in last night there's no way that you could have…"

"Fuck," It was a savage hiss that was punctuated with a hand slamming against the floor.

"What?" The Samoan blinked in confusion. "I mean, I know that it's embarrassing when it happens and no guy ever really wants to admit it, let alone have to put it in a deposition but I thought that'd be good news in this case."

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"That's, uh, never been an issue for me."

"Seriously?" He tried to digest that. "How is that possible?"

"I spent a large portion of my teenage years and big part of my twenties smashed out of my mind. Not only on booze but drugs too. Going home with random chicks pretty much every night." He grimaced as he mentally cursed his overact libido. "I've never failed to rise to the occasion. Not even when I was so fucked up that I couldn't stand."

"That was the past. You're older now and you don't live that life anymore. So your body isn't used to that condition anymore." He stated flatly, trying to make the other man see the logic behind his words. "You don't know if history repeated itself."

"I'm pretty sure it did." The admission was quiet and laced with guilt.

Damn it. That was not what Roman wanted to hear. This was their easiest option to pursue and if it wasn't viable then that made things much more complicated. "How sure?"

"Like ninety-five percent positive."

"Why?"

"Because I was naked when I woke up." He sighed heavily, "You shared a room with me on the road for years and know that ain't how I usually sleep."

"Yeah, you never slept naked in our shared hotel room but I don't know how you sleep when you're in your own home."

"Ro, my childhood was a nightmare and going to sleep wasn't a reprieve. By the time I was fifteen, I was sleeping on the streets or crashing wherever I could." Dean shrugged tiredly, his past an ugly scar that he was used to. "There was no safe place and I had to always be prepared to take off, no matter what time of the night it was. I never really got out of that mindset."

He felt his heart break for his younger brother like it did every time he spoke about his less than pleasant past. "But still…"

"Plus, I knew Paige was crashing here so I wouldn't," Blue eyes popped wide open, jaw going slack. "Oh fuck!"

"What?"

"Where is she?" His eyes scanned the room, as if he expected her to materialize in it.

Roman was thoroughly perplexed by the sudden change in his brother's demeanor. "I-I don't know man. I figured she was here."

"I can't believe that she was pissed off at me enough to let me do this. I mean, if the situation was reversed, I would have stopped her."

"Huh?"

Dean got to his feet and started pacing, "She had to be there when it happened. You need witnesses right?"

"Yeah, you do but…"

"Fuck, I can't believe that she was vindictive enough to let me marry some random chick I met at a bar." His hands were clenching into fists then lashed out, striking one of the stools and sending it crashing to the ground. "Then she doesn't have the guts to hang around to see the fallout!"

There was a loud, annoyed huff that snapped both men's attention to the raven haired woman leaning against the bedroom door in just a t-shirt. "What the bloody hell are you two going on about?"

Dean's eyes narrowed, "Oh so I guess you stuck around to see the outcome of your brilliant little prank after all! Isn't that convenient?"

"I don't have a clue what your issue is." Paige shot back, her eyes drifting between the two men. "I wake up with the worst hangover I've ever had because I hear you two idiots out here, being obnoxiously loud. Planned on ignoring it then I hear something fucking crashing against something else. Figured I might have to stop you guys from beating the hell out of each other."

"You were sleeping?" The sneer on the dirty blonde's face screamed disbelief. "You weren't on the couch…"

"No, I was in the bedroom." She rolled her eyes. "In case you forgot, you told me I could have the bed, that you weren't that much of an asshole."

Roman decided to forget the fact that it was still early in the morning and grabbed a beer from the fridge. This whole screwed up situation definitely called for it. He popped the top and took a long drink. Things were about to get really interesting. But he really didn't want to be in the middle when all the pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

Dean studied her intently. She had definitely just woken up and the t-shirt she was wearing looked like it was the one he had on last night. But how could she have been in the same room, in the same bed as him without him noticing? Admittedly, he was more focused on the pounding than he was his surroundings at time. "You were in the bedroom?"

A slight blush tinged her cheeks, "Yes."

"Cause I was in the bed too and I'm pretty sure that last night…" He cut off abruptly as the blush staining her pale skin deepened and something flashed in her eyes. Fuck. Well that was confirmation that something happened. "Oh."

"Obviously, we were shattered and just passed out in there." She crossed her arms over her chest defensively, "Like we did the other night in my hotel room."

Roman dug into the breakfast he brought, washing it down with his beer. This was getting worse and worse by the minute. It seemed like she was just as clueless about what happened last night as the younger man had been. Once that information came to light then this situation was going to get volatile. He should probably hide the silverware and dishes before it happened.

"So where's my wife then?"

Paige stared at him in open-mouthed shock, "Wait…you're married? Since when?"

"Four am this morning." Dean shot back, his previous anger returning. "Like you didn't know! Hell, you were there and didn't stop me!"

"Oh please tell me that you're not trying to blame me for your fucking stupidity!" She shot back, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "If I was there, which I doubt I was, I would have tried to talk you out of doing something so asinine."

"Just to clear up this point of contention," The Samoan flinched under the burning glares he received from both of them for interrupting. "You were there."

If looks could kill then Roman would be dead. Her jaw tightened and expression pinched as she turned her attention back to Dean. " Fine then I probably tried to talk you out of this and you didn't listen because you're a stubborn asshole. My mistake. I should warned whoever the poor soul who became your wife is to run as fast and far away as she could."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Paige rolled her eyes, "Any man who would marry one woman then screw another the same night isn't exactly husband material!"

Dean growled menacingly, "Well it wasn't like I was alone in that bed. Something tells me that you gave as good as you got."

Roman choked on his combo of eggs and beer. Oh for fuck's sake this was turning into a disaster. He really wished that Seth was here. The architect would have had this whole thing sorted out already. Probably even have print outs to guide them through this step by step and a resolution that wouldn't cause more drama in mind.

While he was no Seth, he had to step up and expedite this. Before something got said or someone did something that couldn't be taken back. Holding up his hands, he stepped between the warring duo, pinning them both with a stern look. "Ok, this got to stop. You're both so far off the mark right now that you're only making matters worse."

Dean held up his hands, taking a step back. He dropped down into the stool that was still standing and proceeded to pop open the bottle of champagne. Then he drank it straight from the bottle. Paige reluctantly followed suit and sat on the couch. She was still glaring at her verbal sparring partner though, probably planning his murder.

"I'm going to clarify things for everyone as best I can with the limited details that I know. Since I wasn't there and you two can't remember then I suggest that we keep any opinions, smart ass comments and verbal grenades to ourselves until I'm done. Agreed?"

Surprisingly, he didn't get any resistance.

Taking that as a good sign, Roman continued. "I left about two am. You two lied to me and decided to stay out, drinking even more. For some reason that eludes me, at four am, the two of you showed up at a twenty four hour wedding chapel and got married to each other."

"HA! Guess you think I'm marriage material after all."

"That's crazy! I would never get married, let alone to him."

Roman rolled his eyes, refusing to acknowledge their outburst. "Well you did. It was confirmed by the lady who performed the ceremony. A marriage license with your signatures exists. It's all over the net and every damn gossip show from here to the end of the world. That means that the company has probably heard about it and you can expect to be summoned to the office at RAW on Monday."

"Shit." Paige hissed, closing her eyes. "This is not going to be good."

"So what do we do?" Dean inquired, his fingers drumming against his collarbone. "Is there a twenty four hour annulment place we could hit up and get this handled before then?"

"No." Again, he rolled his eyes. "There is no quick fix for this. If you even still qualify for an annulment that will take a couple of months to happen."

"Fuck!" Blue eyes shifted around the room before the owner stormed off into his bedroom. A couple of minutes later, he marched into the bathroom then emerged fully dressed in workout gear. He left the apartment without another word, slamming the door behind him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, went back and forth on this chapter for a while. Finally got it where I needed it to be. So here goes...**

* * *

Roman watched as the raven haired women packed her suitcase. It had been oddly quiet since Dean stormed out of the apartment over an hour ago. It was driving him crazy. He needed to know exactly what she was thinking. How this development affected things and if she had an idea of how to fix it?

Paige zipped her suitcase shut and that put an end to the distraction. She bit her lip and took a deep breath then turned to the older man. "What did you mean earlier when you said if we qualify for an annulment?"

"You've got grounds for one since you were both blackout drunk." He sighed, "But as far as I know, which is basically just what I saw on TV and in movies, if a marriage has been consummated then you aren't eligible for one."

"Ah." Her lips curved into a frown.

"Neither of you can remember that detail for sure though,"

She held up a hand to halt him. "I may not remember it but my body does. I'm sore as hell…"

"Ok, I'm going to ask you to stop there because there are things about Dean that I never want direct knowledge about." He made a face. "I already know shit that'll probably end up sending me to a shrink in the future. Let's not make the years spent on the couch longer."

"Relax big man. I already told you, I was too drunk to actually remember anything so I couldn't give details even though the thought of mentally scarring you with them is tempting."

He ran a hand over his face roughly and ignored the barb. "That would probably work in our favor if it turns out that the rule's true. It could make it easier to omit the fact that something may have happened after you got married. What's the last thing you could swear to remembering?"

"Honestly?"

"Yeah," A wicked grin crossed his lips. "I mean you're practically my sister in law now…"

She made a noise of agitation, halting his words. "The last thing that I can actually recall with any clarity was from before you left. Being on the dance floor with someone, trying to stop laughing and even that is kind of vague."

His mouth opened and closed as he stared at her. "Holy shit, that was an hour before I left. That means you were out of it for like three hours when you got married."

"Yeah, I'm aware of that." She bit off a little tersely. "But I'm not sure if that helps since we don't know if we even qualify for the damn annulment."

"If you're not eligible for it then that leaves divorce as the only other option." He heaved a discontented sigh. "Which will be a hell of a lot more involved and a lot more public."

"You're just mister state the obvious today, aren't you?" She snapped, grabbing her cell phone from the charger. After getting the number of the local cab company, she called and requested one. Hanging up, she felt the gaze on her and turned toward him, one eyebrow raised in question at the expression he bore. "What?"

"You're leaving?"

She rolled her eyes, an annoyed huff slipping through her lips. "I have a flight in a couple of hours. Rather not cut it close. You know how much of a bitch security can be."

"What should I tell Dean?"

"Tell him the truth." She shrugged at his dumbfounded look. "I had to catch my flight. I'll see him tomorrow for what will probably be a very short RAW for us."

"Why would it be a short RAW?"

She gave him a pitying smile. Must be nice to be the golden boy. Never getting in trouble or being on the bad side of the people in power. "You saw what happened to Rusev and Lana for getting engaged after dating for years."

He nodded, apprehension settling in his body. "But that's a different situation entirely. That becoming public knowledge ruined a storyline."

"The company does not like bad publicity in any way, shape or form." She shook her head sadly. "Think the drunken misadventures that Dean and I got up to these past few days could be considered anything but that? I figure we were already on the hook for the drunken dance off incident. This is just fuel to the fire."

"Shit, what do you think they'll do?"

"At the least, we'll be jobbing for a while or they'll suspended us." Her heartbeat picked up but she forced herself to admit what the worst case would be. "But there's always a chance that they'll want to make an example of us and give us our walking papers."

"There's no way they'd do that." He started pacing, adopting his brother's nervous tic. "I mean, Dean's one of their top baby faces. Sells a ton of merchandise, does whatever they ask him to even if he hates it and has never been in trouble for anything on the main roster or back in FCW."

"Yeah, he does have the advantage there." She agreed. "Honestly, he'll probably get a slap on the wrist and a few weeks of jobbing."

"And you?"

"I've had some issues with the powers that be before. Have been warned about my immature behavior." A sneer twisted her lips. "So an easy punishment is not in the cards for me. Neither is another heart to heart with Road Dogg that I can fake my way through to get me out of trouble."

"You're on Total Diva's so there's no way that they'll fire you."

A bitter bark of laughter escaped her, "Not until it's finished filming for the season at least. They'll probably suspend me then send me back down to NXT until they can."

The sound of a horn saved them from having anymore of this conversation. She grabbed the handle of her bag and headed toward the door. Pulling it open, she hesitated before sighing loudly. "Listen, shoot me a text to let me know he got back here in one piece, ok?"

"I will." He assured her. "Have a safe flight."

"Thanks."

* * *

It had been five hours since Dean left and Roman hadn't heard from him. Normally, he wouldn't be worried about that. His brother tended to go off by himself when he needed to clear his head or just some space. The dirty blonde would just walk around aimlessly for hours or go work out his frustrations in the desert. When he had his temper in check, he'd come back.

This time though, he was worried. Because unlike the usual situation, this wasn't a case of Dean being pissed about a match or not being able to relax because his mind wouldn't allow it. He was reeling. The younger man probably thought that he fucked up everything up. And when he was in that state of mind, things could get very bad.

He grabbed his phone, checking to see if he had a text or missed call from the eccentric blonde. But there was nothing. Trying to call Dean proved futile because the phone was either off or dead. It rang once and went straight to voicemail. Which again, was very typical of his technology impaired brother because he went through chargers and phones like it was nothing.

His phone rang and his eyes flew to the device. Disappointment settled over him as he looked at Seth's picture. Not the brother he had hoped was calling but he knew he owed the other man an update on the situation.

"Hey."

"So, is it as bad as I think it is?" Seth didn't bother with a greeting or small talk, just got right to the heart of the matter.

"Depends." He sighed. "Did you expect Paige just being very nonchalant, getting on a plane to Florida and Dean pulling a disappearing act for over five hours?"

"It doesn't surprise me. Neither one of them are really good with emotional things" The architect answered bluntly. "Just like I won't be surprised if Dean comes back completely plastered."

He groaned, "I hope not. He needs to be clear headed for RAW tomorrow."

"Yeah about that Rome, there's been a lot of talk today. Especially among the boys." His tone was serious. "No suits here for me to overhear any of that chatter but Joey is in charge of the show today and even he seemed disappointed by the news."

"What's your gut feeling on the punishment?"

"Dean won't get fired, that much I'm sure of. He's always kept his nose clean or at least there's been nothing that got back to the powers that be before this incident." He let out a sigh. "But my guess is, they'll want to make an example. So he'll probably get suspended."

"Fuck, I hope you're wrong." Roman shook his head. "I don't think he'd handle that well right now. The thought of him being alone while dealing with this…"

"Is completely terrifying." Seth finished his thought for him. "It just sucks."

There was too much emotion in the youngest member of the trio's voice. More than just worry or concern. His tone was layered with sadness. "You ok man?"

"I'm fine."

"Seth, I know you and you're not fine." He stated flatly. "So tell me what's wrong."

"I just always thought that if he ever got married, we'd be there with him. By his side. Standing up for our brother. Sharing in what would hopefully be the start of something great for him." He sighed heavily, the feelings he tried to hold back pouring out. "But we weren't there with him, this isn't the start of something great and we might not even get the chance to be there for him while he goes through the process of terminating it."

"I know how hard this is…"

"No, you don't." The younger man interrupted. "Not really. You can still ride with him, share a room if you guys want, take him out for a beer after a show to get his mind off it. I can't because of some stupid rule about heels and faces not interacting in public. I can't approach him where fans might see, can't even really acknowledge him with anything but a disgusted sneer in view of the public. I'm relegated to phone calls or text messages and a quick conversation in catering or the locker room."

There it was, the truth that he couldn't deny. He did have that advantage. While the company wasn't prominently showcasing their brotherhood anymore, they hadn't asked them to stay away from each other. So they could still be seen together, hang out whenever they wanted, grab a drink after work. Like Seth said, he wasn't allowed that luxury because of kayfabe.

"I'm not even on the same live event tours as you guys are anymore. So unless it's a RAW or Smackdown, I won't even get to see him." There was a muffled sniffle. "All I can do is trust that he knows if he needs us, we'll be there. That he believes enough in our relationship that he doesn't bottle it all up until he does something that he'll end up regretting."

"You're thinking about what happened in Florida." Roman was glad that he wasn't the only one who feared a repeated of that incident.

"It was a relapse and an emotional breakdown." His voice is grave. "We convinced ourselves that it wasn't anything serious and covered it up so no one would know. He regretted it and didn't do it again but it still happened and the situation wasn't half as bad as it is now."

Roman took a deep breath, "I know and I'm worried about it too. All we can hope is that he's strong enough to not fall back into old habits."

* * *

After the conversation with Seth, Roman must have dozed off. He didn't remember it but obviously it happened because he suddenly jolted out of his sleep by a noise. A quick look at his phone told him that it had been three hours since his heart to heart with his youngest brother. The sound of running water and muffled curses reached his ears. His eyes drifted to the bathroom door, seeing light peeking out from the bottom.

Dean was home.

He was glad about that. Really, he was. But there was another part of him that was fearful about what condition the younger man would be in. Would he be drunk? Out of his mind on something? An emotional wreck that lashed out at anyone around him?

Sitting up, he put on the lamp and waited. It only took a few minutes before Dean emerged from the bathroom. His eyes widened at the sight of his friend. "What the hell…"

"Sorry if I woke you up." The dirty blonde shifted uncomfortably, moving his arm experimentally.

There are several bandages decorating his side, haphazardly covering the skin and taped down to go along with the obviously injured arm. "You going to explain or am I taking your ass to a hospital to get the answers?"

"My usual workout routine. I took off to the desert. Went running on the trails to try to clear my head. When that didn't work, I decided to do some rock climbing." He winced as he dropped down onto the couch. "My head really wasn't in it, I misjudged the distance on a jump and crashed into the side of the rock."

"Holy shit."

"I couldn't hold on and took a tumble down the side. Got a hell of a case of road rash and popped my shoulder out again. My back feels like shit." He gave a tired laugh. "But if this don't prove that I'm indestructible, I don't know what does."

Roman blinked in disbelief, eyeing the amateur looking wrap job with uncertainty. "You want me to take you to the hospital?"

"Nah, I've had way worse." He gave a ghost of a grin. "Shoulder's back in. Ripped up skin's all covered. I'll be good to go by the morning."

That attitude was so typical of his brother and he hated it. He was too damn stubborn for his own good sometimes. At least he knew what happened. But his explanation left a lot of time unaccounted for. "That's all that happened?"

"Yeah."

"You didn't stop off at a bar first?" He pressed. "Or after?"

Annoyance flashed in those blue eyes. "No, I drove around for a while before I got to the desert and I went through the drive thru at Wendy's. "

"So all you've had to drink was that champagne you chugged down before you left here this morning?" He pushed it further. "Didn't decide to wash down that grilled chicken sandwich with a beer or two?"

"Am I gonna be interrogated all night?" He huffed in agitation. "Cause I really don't need to deal with anymore shit than I already am."

"You drove after drinking a bottle of champagne while you were probably still feeling the effects of last night's binge. Then went out to the desert alone and proceeded to run and climb." He stated flatly. "That right there, could have landed your ass in jail or a morgue. So yeah, I want to make sure that you didn't do anything else that could be dangerous."

Understanding flashed across Dean's face and he paled, eyes widening. "You're wondering if I went out and scored drugs. Got fucked up and that's why this happened."

"I-I…" Roman sighed heavily and shrugged, "I don't want to think that but the past taught me that I need to be vigilant."

"Jesus," The dirty blonde shot to his feet and paced. "That was a one time fucking mistake that was almost four years ago. I promised you guys and myself that it wouldn't happen again. I've kept that promise because I haven't taken anything stronger than fucking Tylenol since that day. Not even when my body feels like I've been run over by a mack truck."

"Dean, we have a right to be concerned."

His pacing came to an abrupt halt and he glared at the other man. "You want it in blood? Will that make you believe me? Say the word brother and I'll tear some flesh right now."

He took a deep breath and slowly shook his head, not doubting for one second that if he said yes that the quirky man would do it.

"Want to drug test me Ro? Give me a cup and I'll piss in it!" Dean offered, angry but also a note of hopelessness in his voice.

Most people would look at the offers made and assume that the younger man's theatrics were covers for the fact that he had done something he wasn't supposed to. But he didn't. He knew Dean better than that. His reaction was because he felt like he wasn't trusted and was doing whatever he could to prove that he could be. This was the only way he knew to get his point across.

"I don't need you to do that uce." His tone was soft. "All I need to know is that you're going to be ok. That you can handle it and what I can do to help you through this."

Blue eyes closed and he sank back down onto the couch beside his brother. "I'm not ok because it doesn't make sense. At all. Yeah, I'm the type to pick up a chick and have a one night stand while drunk. But to marry them in a drunken stupor? No, that's just not me."

Roman had to agree with that. It wasn't something that the other man would normally do, considering his litany of commitment issues. But he said nothing. He wanted to let the other man get everything off his chest.

"I mean, I've bailed out on every chick that I've ever tried to date before it ever got serious. The idea of tying myself to one person makes me sick. Because I'm not cut out for that til death do us part shit. I'm cut out for til morning do we part and that's about it."

The Samoan really hated when he sold himself short like that. In the right circumstances, the dirty blonde could definitely have a successful relationship and be happy in it. The problem was that he just didn't trust himself or other people enough to try. He put a wall up due to his past that was damn near impossible to scale but once you did, it was worth it. Because under the snaky, sarcastic, dry sense of humor and the very real quirks and tics, there was a great person.

Dean slouched down, his head falling back against the cushion and eyes fixed on the ceiling. "So why would I say fuck it and go against everything I believe to get married to a chick that I barely know, hadn't fucked around with and do nothing but butt heads? I mean, she ain't even my type really. Not that I'm saying I wouldn't fuck her because I would and apparently did…"

The dirty blonde froze at that, muttering something under his breath. He jumped to his feet suddenly and took off into his bedroom before Roman could ask what was wrong. He heard something opening, things being tossed aside.

"Motherfucker!"

There was a lot of banging and something hit the wall. He got to his feet and wearily made his way to the bedroom. Clearing his throat, he caught the attention of his brother who had for some reason launched a drawer from his nightstand at the wall. "What's wrong?"

Dean turned to him, his breathing harsh and his chest rapidly rising and falling. Those blue eyes were as wide as he ever seen them and he was holding a condom box in his hand. His hands were shaking as they gestured at the unopened box and he looked like he might throw up at any moment. "I didn't use anything."


	10. Chapter 10

Dean didn't know how long he'd been sitting there on the stool with his head in his hands. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours. Not that it mattered. Time ceased to have meaning when you were trying not to completely lose your shit. But it was a battle that he was failing at.

All it would take was one more unwanted tidbit of last night's debacle to come to light and he'd snap. Full on mayhem and destruction. Trash his apartment. Drive his hands or head into the walls until he couldn't. Scream obscenities at the top of his lungs while tearing everything around him apart.

A while later, he was pulled out of his swirling thoughts as a plate of food was thrust in front of him. He looked at it then up at his brother, brow wrinkling in confusion. Did he ask for food while he was rambling incoherently under his breath? It was entirely possible but he really didn't remember. Staring down at the obviously reheated food, he frowned as his stomach churned at the sight of it. "What's this?"

"I know you're stressing out but you need to eat." Roman stated flatly, wiping his hands on a paper towel. He had tried a few tactics to get the younger man out of his darkened mood but they had failed. But he couldn't let him just sit there, brooding and stewing over possibilities. This was his last shot at accomplishing that mission. "You're already too damn skinny. Can't let you lose anymore weight."

"I'm not skinny." He muttered as he aimlessly pushed around the contents of his plate with a fork, the dried out food not really begging to be eaten. "I'm lean and mean, wiry, in the best shape of my life."

"Oh please. You weigh less than Seth now."

He scoffed, "It just looks like that cause he's all jacked from cross fit."

"You can deny it all you want but it's true. I've got people on twitter begging me to take you home with me and feed you a good Samoan meal to fatten you up." He smirked, knowing that this part would definitely wrench his brother's mind away from his problems. "Plus, there are women complaining that you have a better figure than they do because of your freakishly tiny waist."

Startled blue eyes blinked, fork clattering onto the plate. "What the hell? I don't have a chick's body!"

"Depends on the camera angle they get you at." He grinned, "There's a picture from the shield days where you have your shirt up under you pecks like a crop top-"

He gaped at the other man in disbelief, cutting him off. "The fuck bro? Seriously?"

"Yeah, if you only looked at it from the shoulders down and if you didn't know, you'd really think it could be an old picture of Lita." Roman was glad that this seemed to working and had momentarily taken his brother's mind off his problems. "I got to admit, first time I saw that even I was impressed by the comparison."

"That's just…" Words failed him. "See, this is way I avoid social media like the plague. Nothing good comes from those sites."

"But you're really popular on them baby bro. They talk about your figure as much as they mourn the loss of your ass. It has it's own name, the Ambooty. They also gush about how adorable your dimples are."

"I don't know what's more disturbing." There was a head shake that followed that. "The fact that people actually talk about this shit or the fact that you read it."

"I wouldn't have even known about it if Seth hadn't pointed it out."

Dean rolled his eyes as he continued to play with his food. Now it all made sense. Their younger brother was obsessed with keeping his eye on all chatter involving them. Even the weird, twisted shit on that whole Tumblr thing. Which from the little bit he'd heard, was a scary place to check out. "You both need hobbies. Something other than rotting your brains on the computer for hours."

"We have them but it can be kind of entertaining to see what people say. Some of the fans actually have good ideas and are normal. Other's not so much but the shit they come up with is hilarious." He cast a pointed gaze at the still untouched plate in front of his brother. "Now eat, before all the Ambreigns and Ambrollins fan girls on Tumblr start thinking that we're purposely keeping you thin so we can throw you around easier in be..."

"Rome, you and the company value your looks. Might not wanna finish that sentence when I got a fork in my hand." He warned as he grabbed the object, only half joking about using it. "Cause I'll be forced to introduce your face to it."

"Eat and I won't."

"I know you meant well but this shit isn't edible." To prove his point the tried to cut into his pancake with said fork and it actually bent one of the tines from the effort. "I try to eat that and I'll end up in a dentist chair to get a mouthful of busted teeth yanked."

"Fine, you want to order a pizza?"

He really wasn't hungry. There was something about fucking up so spectacularly that you were facing all your major life changes in just a few hours that just killed the old appetite. It also made him promise himself that he was never going to drink that much again. No need to risk it and end up topping this disaster. Though he didn't even want to imagine what that would entail.

"Don't make me call Seth." Roman threatened, crossing his arms over his chest. "You know what'll happen if I do."

Dean knew what would happen. His cabinets would be stocked with vitamins, protein shake powders and those disgusting bars that tasted like dirt faster than you could say mother hen. The fridge would be inundated with prepared meals that were nutritionally balanced but completely unappetizing and tasteless. "I'd just donate it all to the homeless shelter again."

There was a moment of disbelief before the Samoan broke down in laughter. "You didn't?"

"I did." His tone was flat. "I wasn't going to eat that stuff, tastes like cardboard. Why not give it to people who needed it?"

"I take it that he's not privy to that information."

"Nope, didn't want to hear him bitch about my good deed." Blue eyes rolled, "Ironic considering he's always telling me to be a better person."

The ring of Roman's cell halted whatever response he had to that. When he grabbed it and saw who was calling, a grimace crossed his face. "Fuck."

"Who is it?"

The eldest former member of the shield's sighed, "It's headquarters."

A sense of dread filled him because he knew, without a doubt that nothing good could be coming from that phone call from the main office when it was almost nine o'clock at night on the east coast. He swallowed thickly and nodded toward the device. "Better answer it man. No need to get yourself on their shit-list too."

"Hello?" His face blanched, but his voice remained steady. "Oh hey Hunter. What's up?"

He watched as his brother's eyes darted over to him and his posture wilted. "Yeah, I'm with him. His phone's dead, that's why he didn't answer it. You, uh, want to talk to him?"

Dean sighed and held out his hand. Might as well get this over with. He took a deep breath and brought the phone to his ear. "So I'm guessing that this isn't a congratulatory call."

He had to pull the phone away from his ear as his boss began to loudly berate him for the less than intelligent choices he'd made over the past few days. If he was alone, he'd put it on speaker and just do his own thing while the man ranted, throwing in an occasional uh-huh to pretend that he was listening. But he didn't want Roman to hear this. Plus the older, more responsible man would never allow him to do something like that. Damn moral bastard always insisting that he do the right thing.

Hunter asked if he knew how bad this whole situation looked. Yeah, he really did. Probably knew it even more than the other man. Since he was a grown man, he could admit his wrongdoing and take responsibility for it. "I know, it was irresponsible and stupid. A mistake that I never should have put myself in a position to make."

The man finally got around to the point of his call. Dishing out the punishment. It was delivered quickly and bluntly. He was suspended. Thirty days. They hoped he used that time wisely to figure out his situation and that he'd learn a valuable lesson from this.

He rolled his eyes because he had already learned something from this. If he was drunk and horny enough, he apparently became a commitment happy idiot. Good thing the other cities he lived in didn't have all night wedding chapels or else he'd probably have as many ex-wives as he did scars on his psyche. That was a scary thought to ponder. But he knew better than to say that to the man on the other end of the line unless he wanted to have mandatory counseling added to his punishment.

Hunter rambled on, spouting things about being a role model. That his actions reflected negatively on public perception. That this was an incident that would shake the company's faith in him. His standing in the company would be impacted by this. How he was wondering if they should have both of them take these thirty days and attend rehab.

Jesus, he really needed to end this call now before the boss reconsidered that because he didn't need rehab. But how the hell did he end it? Apologize for being a dumb-ass? Thank Hunter for berating him? Or was it better if he just hung up and let the call back go straight to voicemail, pretending that Roman's battery had died?

Hunter saved him the hassle. Ending the call with a stern reprimand that behavior like this was immature and would not be tolerated. Informing him that something like this better not happen ever again if he wanted to stay employed. With that, the line went dead.

Dean stared at the phone for a second, anger burning it's way through his body. His arm reared back but before he could bring it forward to throw the phone at the wall, a hand grabbed his wrist in a death grip.

"You want to throw shit, that's fine." Roman's voice was exasperated as he pried the phone free from his grasp. "But destroy your own shit man, not mine."

"Sorry."

"Take it that didn't go well."

"Could've been worse." He shrugged in annoyance. "I could have been fired after enduring the lecture from hell."

The Samoan sighed, "What's your sentence?"

"Thirty days."

"That's not that bad. In fact, it could be a good thing." The dark haired man reasoned. "It could almost be like a vacation. Kick back, relax and give your body a chance to heal up all those nagging aches and little injuries we get…"

He scoffed at that, "It's nothing like a vacation."

"Then you could use that time to get the ball rolling on ending this situation."

Dean wanted to do that, he really did. But unfortunately, he couldn't right now. The discovery that he hadn't used a condom had changed things slightly. If their forgotten night of stupid decisions decided to bite them in the ass even harder by adding a baby to the mix, the situation became really complicated. He never wanted kids but if it turned out that he was going to be a father there was no way in hell that he'd walk away.

He was aware that the other man was waiting for him to reply, "I can't do anything until I know for sure that no surprises are on the way."

Roman shook his head tiredly. "I know you were lost in your head earlier and most likely didn't hear a word I said but I told you that you probably don't even need to worry about that. Odds are that like every active woman wrestler on the roster, Paige is on some form of birth control."

"Not all of them are." He retorted acidly. "Rosa just had a kid."

"I said active woman wrestler, not the female JTG."

Usually he'd laugh at that but he couldn't because it didn't help. "Even if Paige is on birth control, it's not a hundred percent effective. Nothing is. So until I'm sure that we're in the clear, I'm not doing anything."

"I'm going to play devil's advocate here so don't kill me." The older man took a deep breath before giving him a serious look. "Paige is still really young and has a long career ahead of her. Even if she is pregnant, it doesn't mean that she'll want to have it."

"I know."

"You couldn't force her to keep the baby."

"I wouldn't do that." He ran a shaky hand through his hair. "It's her decision to make and her right not to want a child at this point in her life because honestly, I never saw myself being a father so I understand. I'd support whatever choice she made and then we could take care of this whole marriage issue."

"But if she wanted to have the baby…"

Dean licked his dry lips, twitching fingers splaying over his collarbone and tapping a steady rhythm. "You know my childhood was hell. I'd never walk away from my kid just because the situation wasn't ideal. I might suck at it since I don't know what it's like to have a father figure in my life but I'd try to be the best father I could be. So if there's a baby involved then I'm not going to be the one to end the marriage. That'll be her choice to make but that won't keep me out of my child's life."

Roman wanted to continue this conversation but the other man was getting agitated. So he decided to leave it alone for now. "You know, this whole conversation's just us speculating on the what if's and worst case scenario's when we don't know anything. It's probably pointless to even consider any of this."

"Hopefully but so far, luck hasn't been on my side." He gave a bitter laugh. "Gotta be karmic retribution for all the times I bailed on making a commitment."


	11. Chapter 11

_Two weeks, two days later…_

Dean stepped out of his shower, wrapped the towel around his waist then made his way into his bedroom. It had been hot in the desert as usual. The unforgiving sun had beat down on him as he pushed his body to the limit but he wouldn't have had it any other way. Since he'd been suspended, he'd devoted himself to this routine wholly, spending five hours a day in the unyielding heat in order to maximize his workout. Running, rock climbing, mountain biking, push ups, sit ups, medicine ball, weights then he'd hit the gym late at night, needing to keep himself from going stir crazy.

Being suspended sucked and it still pissed him off that it happened at all but there was nothing he could do. It had been years since he'd had so much free time on his hands. While there were so good things about it, like the fact that he could sleep in his own bed and that his body felt better than it had in a long time, he absolutely hated every moment of it. His life was dedicated to wrestling and had been ever since he was sixteen, being in the ring was the only time he felt whole. So he was channeling all that anger and boredom into making sure that his body was in the best possible shape it could be for his return.

Roman and Seth called constantly to check up on him. They never mentioned what was going on behind the scenes at work, instead talking about their lives away from the company. He knew what they were doing and why but they didn't need to worry about him. His life might be a mess right now but he was handling it the best he could. There'd been no mental breakdowns, no resorting to using something to numb his feelings, no real fights and yes, he did kick back and have a few beers at night if he felt like it but he wasn't drinking himself into oblivion to forget everything.

That was progress.

He hadn't heard from Paige at all. That wasn't really surprising though. This situation wasn't easy and knowing what to say was even harder. Nothing could really be decided upon until he knew for sure that their drunken actions hadn't accidentally added another life into the equation. Once they knew for sure then they could figure out what the hell to do about this whole fucked up situation.

His thoughts were cut off by the ringing of his phone and he grumbled loudly as he pulled on a pair of shorts. Had to be Seth, it seemed like he was determined to set the world record for most calls in a day. He grabbed it off the nightstand on the third ring but left it attached to the charger. If his battery went dead at all, Seth would automatically think the worst, lose his shit and be on the next flight out to Vegas. "Hello?"

"May I speak with Dean Ambrose please?" An unfamiliar but formal voice inquired.

He frowned, not liking the sound of that tone, wondering what the hell this was about. As far as he knew, he didn't have any official business that needed to be attended to. This better not be a telemarketer. If it was, then he had no problem unloading on them. "Who's calling?"

"This is Doctor Helen Ryland from Orlando General Hospital. We're calling because Paige Knight has been admitted and we were told that you're her husband by a friend of hers."

Dean froze, his blood running cold. "W-w-what happened?"

"I'd rather not go into details over the phone Mister Ambrose, is there anyway you can come to the hospital?"

The doctor's voice was cold, detached and completely professional but that didn't stop him from reading into the things that she wasn't saying. Not like that was hard to do. The hospital didn't ask you to come in if it was something as simple as a sprain or a bad bout of the flu. No, they only wanted you there when it was life or death. "Is she alright?"

"Miss Knight is in ICU."

His hand shook as it latched onto his hair, tugging at the longish curls that were slightly brushing the base of his neck. Fuck. He really wanted to be wrong about this. "It'll take some time, don't live in Florida anymore so I've got to get a flight…"

"Is there a family member who's closer?" Doctor Ryland prompted. "Say her mother or father?"

"No," He was sure of that. "Her family lives in England."

"Due to her injuries, we need to operate as soon as we can." The doctor stated flatly. "Can we have your consent to go forward with the procedure?"

Dean sank down onto the floor, biting his thumbnail. Shit. He shouldn't be the one to make this decision, didn't want to make it. Not when he didn't even really know what the hell was going on. That made him completely unqualified to make a life or death decision for her. But apparently, since she couldn't and her parents were in a different country, he would have to push aside his reluctance and just do it. "Y-Yeah, do whatever you have to."

"Is your wife allergic to any medications?"

He pressed his free hand to his temple, a stab of pain blooming. Why did hospitals always insist on asking him questions that he didn't know the answers too? "I don't know."

"We can check her medical records." The doctor obviously took pity on him. "Mister Ambrose, is there any possibility that your wife could be pregnant?"

"It's possible." His voice was a heavy whisper as something in his chest squeezed painfully.

"We'll test her right away."

He swallowed thickly, "If she is, does that mean you can't operate?"

There was a long pause. "This a conversation that we should have in person. I'm going to check in on patients and allow you to make whatever arrangements that you need to."

Hanging up, he took several deep breaths before he called to find a flight he could get on as soon as possible. That turned out to be the most frustrating, hellacious experience ever. After being bounced around from operator to operator, none who seemed very interested in assisting him and a lot of explaining the situation, he finally got fed up to the point that he asked to speak to a manager. After more explaining and apologies from said supervisor over the service he had received, the airline managed to get him on a direct flight that was leaving in a few hours.

Dean hurried around his room, throwing everything he needed into a carry on when his phone rang again. Part of him was really hoping that it wasn't Doctor Ryland calling him back with bad news. He hesitantly picked up his phone and sighed when it was Seth calling, probably to make sure that he hadn't done anything stupid today. His thumb swiped the screen, sending it to voicemail. The architect would just have to deal with it and leave a message right now.

He called a cab, grabbing his bag as he left the room, ignoring the constant ringing of his phone. Making sure that nothing that could burn the place down was left on, he headed out the door to wait for his ride. Outside his house, the phone rang again but not the same selected ring tone. This time it was Roman and he rolled his eyes, figuring that Seth was probably freaking out because he got sent to voicemail and forced their big brother to try his luck. It would only take a minute to answer and assure them that he was alright but he didn't feel like doing that right now. There were more important things he had to worry about than calming them down.

* * *

Roman hung up after leaving a message for Dean to call him as soon as possible and sighed, turning his attention to the frantic man who'd invaded his hotel room and refused to leave. He obviously needed to be the level-headed one in this instance. "You know, it's still early in Vegas. He's probably out running and doesn't have a signal or he's so lost in his music that he doesn't even hear the phone."

Seth hadn't stopped his frenzied pacing since he saw the report while he was surfing the web and then confirmed it with friends he still had down in NXT. He'd tried to reach out to the dirty blonde a few times, wanting to be the one to break the news, but all his calls kept going to voicemail. That led him to enlist Roman in this quest, hoping that he'd answer him, but he'd suffered the same fate. "Hopefully that's it. Damn, I really don't want him turning on the TV and finding out."

"He'll break the damn thing and probably trash the place."

"Exactly that's why I'd rather that he hears about it from one of us."

"No matter how he finds out, he's going to flip. This whole situation is complicated and fucked up but fact of the matter is, she's his wife." The Samoan's tone was flat. "At least I can get down there tomorrow, in case he decides to go on a rampage."

"Yeah." That didn't put him at ease at all. "I'm going with you."

A skeptical eyebrow arched at that, "You know that there's no way in hell that will go over well with the powers that be. No good comes from breaking kayfabe, look at Rusev and Lana. They're in the doghouse for the foreseeable future. You sure that you want to join them?"

"I don't give a shit." Seth shrugged, "Let them strip me of the damn title and job me out to Fandango if they want. Nothing is going to keep me away from my brother when he needs me. Plus, you and I both know that if he reacts how we think he will then it's going to take both of us to stop him from doing something that will cost him everything he's worked for."

Roman knew that there was no logic he could present that was going to change his little brother's mind, so he did what the big brother always did and gave a nod. "Want go half on the hotel room and car rental? That way we'll still have money for bail if we need it."

* * *

Dean finally got to the hospital at nine-thirty that night after the flight from hell. The damn thing took forever to take off due to an unexpected thunderstorm causing a delay and then it had been turbulent as hell, like they were flying through a pothole filled sky. That did nothing to help his already frayed nerves and he'd managed to bite his nails down to the flesh. But at least he'd made it. Now he could finally find out what the hell happened to land Paige in here and how she was doing.

He stopped at the front desk, getting the information he needed then headed up to the floor he was told that she was on. Recovery ward. That sounded promising at least. Much better than ICU or the morgue like he'd feared. Not as good as discharged but hopefully that would happen soon.

His heart was hammering in his chest as the elevator jolted to a stop, making his stomach lurch, and the doors opened. He spotted the desk and made his way over to it, trembling hands thrust deep in his pockets. Hospitals were not his favorite place to be. Every time he had to go to one, nothing good came of it. As long as he kept himself in check, he could get through this. "Hi, I was told that Paige Knight was on this floor."

The nurse studied him intently. "Visitors are restricted to family and only permitted during scheduled visiting hours which ended at eight pm. You'll have to come back in the morning."

"Listen," He leaned forward, resting his arms on the top of the desk and fingers drumming agitatedly against them as his blazing eyes locked on hers. "I'm her husband and I just flew half way across the damn country to get here. So ring up Doctor Ryland, let her know that I've arrived and that I not only want to know what the hell is going on but that I want to see my wife."

"Sir, I'm sorry but the rules are the rules. They are in place for a reason, to benefit our patient's recovery and will be strictly enforced." She huffed, obviously not giving a damn about what he had gone through. Probably dealt with stuff like this everyday and no longer had any compassion left. "I can alert Dr. Ryland that you're here but you'll have to wait in the waiting room for her."

He really wanted to argue the point more but he knew that all it would accomplish was pissing the nurse off and getting him tossed out of the hospital on his ass. Probably end up banned from entering it again. Couldn't find out anything if that happened. So he sucked it up, rolled his eyes and gritted out, "Fine, where's the waiting room?"

"Surgery waiting room is one floor down."

Without another word or look at the unhelpful woman, he made his way back over to the elevators. His finger stabbed at the button a little more forcefully than needed, his body bouncing slightly in annoyance. It wasn't coming fast enough for him. He spotted the stairs and decided that they were the better option. Maybe the walk would help, get him to calm down slightly before meeting with her doctor.

But it didn't.

He was still fuming when he found the waiting room and pulled open the door, making it crash against the wall loudly. His steps faltered as he saw a familiar shock of red hair in one of the chairs jump at the sound. "Sami?"

"Deano!"

The excited proclaimed reached his ears a second before he was grabbed up in a very enthusiastic hug. He pried the Canadian's hands off him and took a step back, "Ok, ok enough of that."

"I'm so glad that they got a hold of you and that you're here now." Sami's relief was palpable. "As soon as they wheeled her in, I told them that they had to call you. You're her husband so you could make the decisions since she couldn't."

"Slow down." Dean instructed, leading the worked up man back to the chairs and pushing him down into it. "What are you doing here man? Did the hospital call you too?"

"Oh, I was the one who found her. We live in the same building, my apartment's upstairs from hers." He was kind of rambling and his eyes were fixed on the distance, as if he was seeing it all over again. "I was coming back from physical therapy and noticed that her house door was open. It was hanging kind of funny, like it had been forced open so I went in to make sure that everything was alright. That's when I found her laying between the living room and balcony."

His hands curled tightly around the arm of the chair as he leaned forward. "Jesus, someone broke into her house and attacked her?"

"Well yeah I guess you could say that," Something flashed over Sami's face and his words died off with a squeak. A tense silence settled over them before he cleared his throat and their eyes locked. "You don't know, do you? No one told you anything?"

"No, the doctor wouldn't tell me anything over the phone, other than she needed surgery and I should get here as soon as possible."

"Seth didn't call you?" There was panic in his tone and his hand rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "Cause he saw it on the web and called me to find out if it was true. I figured that once I answered that, he'd call you."

"He tried to call me but I was rushing out of my house so I ignored all calls and let them go to voicemail." He was getting annoyed now. "You said he saw it on internet? Why would it be on there? What the hell happened?"

"I really don't want to be the one to tell you this." Zayn shook his head. "I've known you way too long so I know how you're going to take this and I don't want to get punched because no one else is here and you need to lash out."

"Sami, breathe." Dean instructed, his hands on the NXT star's shoulders. "Just tell me and I promise that I won't punch you."

"I wasn't there for it so I can only go by what I've overheard in the locker room the last few weeks, what the neighbor said she saw and what the cops think took place."

"Which was?"

Sami swallowed roughly, "Corey was angry about the two of you and has been a complete asshole the last couple of weeks. He was convinced that she's been cheating on him with you since she got the call that she was going up to the main roster. Didn't matter that he was cheating on her and had been for a while or that they broke up before you two went and did this."

"Go on." He gritted out between clenched teeth, having a sinking suspicion about where this story was going.

"Our neighbor, who we jokingly call the unwanted neighborhood watch, told the police that he showed up at Paige's apartment, drunk and banging on the door, screaming at the top of his lungs. He kicked in the door probably because she wouldn't answer it. The police figure that they must have gotten into an argument after he did that and it apparently turned physical."

"He beat her?" His voice was a savage hiss. "That's why she needs surgery?"

"No, I think that she needed surgery because he either kicked or pushed her through the balcony doors." A troubled look passed over the Canadian's face. "Finding her like that, I was panicking, thinking the worst had happened."

Dean's hands tightened on the arm of the chair so tightly that the wood starting cracking beneath the pressure. Every muscle in his body was rigid with anger. His vision turned red and visions of sweet, violent murder danced through his mind. "Sami, I'm gonna need Corey's address."


	12. Chapter 12

**_Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Been dealing with a minor case of writer's block and work being absolutely insane for the last couple of months. I'm hoping that when it slows down in a few weeks that I'll be able to update more frequently._**

* * *

It was fairly common knowledge that Dean had a horrible childhood. He had used promo's as a form of therapy when he was younger and spilled a lot of things he had gone through to the world. So everyone with access to the internet knew that his mother was a train wreck who made bad decisions in every aspect of her life. They knew that she was an alcoholic and a junkie who cared more about her next fix than her son. The universe had heard all about how he had to walk past the street corner she worked on everyday and try not to throw up.

They hadn't heard everything though.

Especially when it came to the jackasses she dated. Most, if not all of them, had been abusive assholes who had no problem knocking his mother around right in front of him. It had gone on and on until he was strong enough to do something about it. Even though she never appreciated him stepping in to stop it, it had made him detest men who raised their hands to women. Made him want to torture them then slowly kill them so they could have an idea of what it was like for their victims.

Yeah, as Jon Moxley he had put his hands on women. The thing was that was only for the cameras, a part of the whole scumbag heel persona that he was working. That was where it stayed. Off camera, while he admittedly sucked as a boyfriend, he wouldn't hit a woman. No matter how bad one tried to press his buttons or whatever vile thing was screamed at him, he'd hurt himself before he hurt them if he couldn't just walk away.

Hearing that Corey had beaten Paige so severely that she was in the hospital made his blood boil. His chest rose and fell rapidly with every angered breath he sucked in between clenched teeth and his hands curled into tight balls as he struggled to keep his temper in control.

"Dean, you alright?" The cautious question snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Just tell me where Corey lives Sami." Dean insisted, part of his mind searching through the most violent aspects of his history to find the perfect one to inflict on Corey and the other part focusing on getting the information that he needed to make them a sweet, bloody reality. "Cause I really need to know. This needs to be dealt with right away."

"I'm sorry." The red haired man swallowed, holding up his hands helplessly. "But I can't tell you that."

"Come on Sami, don't play this game with me. Where does the prick live?" He gritted out between clenched teeth, his eyes flashing dangerously and twitching uncontrollably. It was painfully obvious the other man was nervous and really reluctant to give up the information. Probably because he knew what was going to happen to Corey once he couldn't hide anymore. "I ain't asking you for nothing but an address. You don't gotta be involved anymore than that."

"I d-d-don't know." Sami stammered, scooting as far away from the irate man as he could, his sense of self preservation most likely telling him that this was the best course of action he could take.

But the dirty blonde shadowed his movements, his hands balled into fists that were clenched so tightly that it turned his knuckles pure white. "You can tell me man. Don't worry, ain't planning on there bein' a lot of talkin' when him and I cross paths so he won't know you gave it up."

"This isn't a situation were I'm not telling you because I don't want to." The older man explained, his tone more confident and less shaky. "I'm not telling you because I really don't have any idea where he lives."

"Then you know someone on the roster who does." Hands reached out and grasped the shirt of the other man, a vicious, unnerving twisted smirk on his lips and blue eyes that shone with murderous intent settled on him. "I'm sure all you gotta do is make a couple of calls and it'd be in your hand in a heartbeat."

Sami gulped, nervously twisting out of the grip. "I'm not friend's with Corey. Never have been and never would be. We're two very different type of people. I don't hang out with anyone he associates with, which are mostly people who are not on the roster. So I don't know where he lives or have any of his friends' numbers to find that out."

"You lying to me Zayn?"

"Dean, you've known me a long time." The red haired man took a deep breath, trying to reason with him. "You know the type of person that I am and that I don't like to lie so I try to avoid doing it. Especially when it comes to people that I consider my friends."

He ran his hands roughly over his face, nodding slightly and stepping back. "Yeah, I know. Sorry for getting in your face. I just need to find that asshole and drive my fist into his face until I feel the bones crack and hear the blood squelching beneath…"

"I know you want vengeance and even though I don't condone it, I can't blame you for feeling like that." Sami cut him off quickly, looking a little green after hearing that. "But even if you find out where he lives, it won't do you any good. Corey knows that cops are looking for him so they can arrest him. He's not going to go back there and risk that happening."

"I was kinda hoping he'd be dumb enough to show up there soon. If not tonight then sometime tomorrow at the latest." He sighed, "Figured I'd wait him out and be his own personal welcome wagon."

"I just want to say this then I won't bring it up again." The older man studied him intently, gaze never wavering. "I already told you that I understand why you want to get your hands on him. I really do. But what happens if or when you get that opportunity? You think the cops will understand and because of that, they won't arrest you too?"

All Dean could do was shrug in response. "They'll do what they gotta do."

"I know you really don't care about things like that but think about Paige. She's going to need you man and you won't be any help to her if you get yourself locked up."

"I don't think it'd bother her too much."

His face scrunched in confusion, "Why wouldn't it bother her if her husband was in jail when she was lying in a hospital bed?"

"It's a really long, fucked up story…"

Their conversation came to a halt as the doors opened and a women entered the room in a long white jacket and blue scrubs, stopping a few feet away from them. "Mr. Ambrose, I'm Doctor Ryland. If you'd like to follow me to my office, we can discuss your wife's condition."

"Alright." He gave Sami a long hard look. "I know you're trying to look out for me man and I appreciate the gesture but if you hear anything through the grapevine, I need you to let me know."

"I will."

Dean let out a breath, nodded and followed the doctor out of the waiting room. They walked down a long hall and into a claustrophobic office that he could probably stretch his arms out and touch both walls at the same time. But he pushed aside the anxiety that caused and took a seat in the chair, leg bouncing nervously. "How's Paige doing? I know she's in recovery right now, so that's a good thing. Right?"

"As you know from our conversation over the phone, your wife's injuries were serious enough to require immediate surgery." Doctor Ryland informed him flatly. "Also as we spoke about on the phone, I did run a pregnancy test to make sure that we were safe to operate before we proceeded and it came back negative."

It was a relief to hear that but he didn't dwell on it. There'd be plenty of time later for him to acknowledge what that meant for future of their so called marriage. Right now, there were more important things to get to the bottom of. He leaned forward, a narrow gaze on the woman holding the answers he needed. "What kind of surgery was it? Did it go well?"

"The surgery we performed is a relatively routine one to stop internal bleeding. We managed to get to the affected area in time to avoid exacerbating the situation but needed the consent in case we found ourselves in a situation where we were dealing with a ruptured spleen. It's being monitored to ensure that it will no longer an issue to be concerned about." She paused, looking at him long and hard. "But there's another injury that still needs to be addressed."

He blinked in confusion. "What kind of injury?"

"While we were conducting our preliminary examination, we noticed some irregular swelling in Miss Knight's neck and used a portable device to perform a basic X-ray. The results show that it's highly probable that during the altercation, Ms. Knight sustained a cervical fracture." Doctor Ryland informed him gravely.

"A cervical fracture?" His mouth twisted in a frown, "That sounds familiar but I can't think of what it is."

"It's more commonly referred to as a broken neck."

Everything in his body went cold at those words. Fuck. That wasn't something he had been expecting to hear. Weary, he slouched in the chair and gaped at her in distress. "A broken neck? What does that mean? Is she going to be paralyzed?"

"From what the initial X-ray showed, there are no bone fragments pressing against the spinal cord or otherwise impairing it at this time." She informed him in that perfectly vague doctor tone. "Which is an encouraging sign."

"That really wasn't an answer."

"That's all the answer I have until Ms. Knight is awake."

"She's still not awake?" That made him sit up straight and his expression gave away his fear of what that meant. "Why not? Is she in a coma?"

"Calm down Mr. Ambrose." Her tone was slightly softer and slightly more gentle than before but no less commanding. "In cases like these where the patient suffered substantial trauma, we employ a tactic of keeping them sedated to avoid any possible situation that may cause further damage to occur."

"Ok," He let out a relieved breath. "So what happens now?"

"We have Ms. Knight's neck stabilized in a semi-rigid collar that limit's the side to side and also the up and down movement of the neck and head as a precaution. Once we've brought her out of sedation and informed her of the circumstances, we'll take a more in-depth C-spine X-ray and an MRI to confirm the injury and get a clearer picture of what we're dealing with. After that we'll perform a series of sensation and motion tests to determine the extent of the damage."

"Is there any chance that what you saw on the X-ray could be wrong?" He mentally cringed from the pleading tone of his voice. "Like maybe it was just a shadow or something else affecting it."

"Highly unlikely." She held his gaze. "There were three very distinctive lines that indicate fractures on two vertebrae's."

Dean swallowed thickly, drumming his fingers on the arm of the chair. Fuck. There went any hope he had that he harbored that it might be wrong. "So once the tests confirm that she's got a broken neck, what happens then?"

"Due to the nature of the injury and her career, we'll contact the top orthopedic surgeon in the city that specializes in dealing with athletes. He'll review our findings, come up with a course of action that he'll explain to Ms. Knight and you." Her tone was supposed to be reassuring but it wasn't. "Rest Assured that Dr. Matthews is one of the best there is and has performed this similar operations numerous times with outstanding success."

"I guess that's something."

She gave him a small smile, "I understand that this is a difficult time. This must be a lot for you to process right now which is why I wanted to give you time to come to terms with it before we bring your wife out of sedation. Ms. Knight will be upset and confused about everything that transpired and what we've found. She'll need you to help her through this ordeal and with accepting the diagnosis."

Once again, he found himself in a situation that he wasn't comfortable dealing with. Their marriage wasn't real after all. Hell they barely knew one another. He didn't have a right to make decisions for her or to know anything more than what she'd tell him, which would probably be nothing at all. Despite knowing that, he'd already been forced to make choices that affect her life once today.

Luckily, it worked out and he wasn't being put in a situation where he had to do it again.

But this was still a highly uncomfortable situation he found himself in. He was being informed about things that would force her to have to make a decision that would definitely be a gamble with her career. That wasn't something that he had a say in. What she did with her life or career was entirely up to her. It wasn't his business and he had no right to tell her what she should do or how she should deal with it.

He was pretty sure that once she was awake and alert that she wouldn't want him around, much less need him for support. She'd probably be pissed that they even contacted him. Not to mention how angry she'd be when she realized that he had consented to something that affected her. Too bad knowing that didn't stop him from asking more questions about the situation and digging himself in deeper. "Is surgery the only option or are there other courses of treatment to consider?"

Doctor Ryland shook her head, "The surgery is necessary. This is not an injury that will heal without it and it will continue to decline the longer it goes without being corrected. If left as is the risk of nerve damage, loss of sensation and paralysis all increase significantly."

Damn it. That wasn't what he wanted to hear. Defeated and deflated, he asked the question that was haunting his mind. "I mean, is she even strong enough to do this right now? Considering everything that happened?"

"We'll want to allow time for her to heal from the surgery she had today before proceeding with another one. But the sooner we address this issue, the better her odds are for a full recovery."

"How long of a wait before she can have the surgery are we talking about?"

"A week at least." Doctor Ryland confirmed. "After that, she'll be medically able to have the surgery and we'll move on from there."

"A week?" Dean huffed a bitter laugh. "Isn't that pushing it? Do you really think she'll be able to come to grips with the fact that her ex-boyfriend beat the hell out of her, that she had undergo emergency surgery and that she's still facing a surgery that could end her career in only a week?"

"No, I don't." The doctor admitted. "A woman who was a victim of this type of assault, that suffers the severity of the injuries that she has and the emotional impact of it will need a lot of support from people she cares about and most likely, long term counseling to deal with the emotional trauma. It could be years before she's mentally capable of dealing with it. But unfortunately, as I said, time is not something that is conducive to the kind of neck injury she sustained so we need to concentrate on when she is physically able to handle it."

He closed his eyes and mentally started counting to twenty in a weak attempt to calm himself down. His mind refused to allow it though. Two questions swirling through his head on a continuous loop.

Why did he come here?

What the hell had he gotten himself into?

This whole situation was way out of his league. There was many roles he was capable of playing in someone's life but not this one. Playing the role of the supportive, comforting, logical person was not something he was accustomed to. He lacked the ability to filter the things that came out of his mouth, no matter how brutally honest they were. Anything he said would inevitably just end up distressing Paige even more than she already would be.

The best thing for both of them would be for him to leave the hospital, drive back to the airport and get on the next plane bound for Vegas. Don't look back. Go to wherever the hell he had to go to file papers for an annulment or divorce. Pretend that none of this ever happened. Get his life back on track and do whatever he had to in order to prove to the WWE that they could trust him not to make reckless choices.

But he couldn't.

Not when it was his fault that Paige was lying in that hospital bed.

He set his sights on her when he heard about the break-up. Forced her to change her plan of going home after Comic Con to stay in Vegas with them. Played games to get under her skin, pushing her buttons. Flirted and plotted to get what he wanted. Drank too much to stop himself from doing something stupid.

If none of those things happened, they wouldn't be in this situation.

So he owed it to her to stay until she told him to fuck off.

Dean took a deep breath and roughly rubbed his hands over his face. He met the doctor's questioning gaze, determination clear on his face. "So what's the plan?"

"Tomorrow morning we'll stop the medication we're giving Ms. Knight that's keeping her sedated. Once it's out of her system, she'll wake up on her own. When she's alert and coherent enough then we'll inform her of the situation."


End file.
